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THE 


CRUSADES 


AND 


THE  CRUSADERS. 


By    JOHN    G.    EDGAR, 

ACTIIOK  OF   "  BOVIIOOD   OF   GRKAT  MEN,"   "  WARS   OF   THE  HOSES," 

ETC. 


WITH     EiaUT    ILLUSTRATIONS     BY    JULIAN     PORTO  U. 


BOSTON: 
TICK  NOR   AND    FIELDS. 

M  DCCC  LX. 


Author's    Edition. 


CAMBRIDGE  : 
THURSTON,       MILES,      AND      PRITCnETT. 
PRINTERS  AND   ELECTROT\  PICKS. 


PREFACE 


■r 


o 


The  piety  and  cliivalry  exliibited  by  those 
Christian  warriors,  who,  at  an  early  period  of 
European  civilization,  left  their  homes  and  their 
countries  to  rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the 
grasp  of  Moslem  conquerors,  have  since  seldom 
—  save  in  the  case  of  men  too  sceptical  to  sym- 
pathize, or  too  stupid  to  comprehend  —  failed  to 
excite  admiration  and  curiosity.  My  object,  in 
this  book  for  boys,  is  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
heroes  who,  animated  by  religion  and  heroism, 
took  part  in  the  battles,  the  sieges,  the  marvellous 
enterprises  of  valor  and  despair,  which  make  up 
^^     the  history  of  those  great  adventures  known  as 

V)  J  to 

the  Crusades. 

I  have  endeavored,  I  would  fain  hope  not  with- 
out some  slight  degree  of  success,  to  narrate  the 
events  of  the  Holy  War,  from  the  time  Peter  the 
Hermit  rode  over  Europe  on  his  mule,  rousing  the 
^  religious  zeal  of  the  nation,  to  that  dismal  day 
"^  Avhen  Acre,  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Christians 
in  the  East,  fell  before  the  arms  of  the  successor 
of  Saladin  and  of  Bibars  Bendocdar.     During  the 


185531 


IV  PREFACE. 


two  centuries  that  intervened,  many  of  the  great- 
est personages  of  Europe  stitched  the  red  cross 
on  their  shoulder,  and  signalized  their  prowess 
arainst  the  enemies  of  their  religion.  To  that 
period  w^e  can,  in  a  national  point  of  view,  look 
back  with  pride  ;  for,  while  Germans  can  point 
to  Frederick  Barbarossa,  and  Frenchmen  to  God- 
frey of  Bouillon,  Philip  Augustus,  and  St.  Louis, 
as  prominent  in  "  the  world's  debate,"  English- 
men can  discern  among  the  armed  throng,  far 
away,  indeed,  but  still  distinct  in  the  distance, 
Kichard  Coeur  de  Lion,  "  the  feudal  king  par 
excellence ; "  William  Longsword,  the  flower  of 
Anglo-Norman  nobles ;  and  our  First  Edward, 
the  greatest  of  those  mighty  monarchs,  strong  in 
battle  and  w^ise  in  council,  wdio  for  more  than 
three  hundred  years  were  the  pride  of  England 
and  the  terror  of  England's  foes. 

I  believe  that  the  examples  of  the  great  men, 
whose  gallant  deeds  are  depicted  in  the  following 
pages,  are  calculated  to  exercise  a  wholesome  in- 
fluence on  the  minds  of  youthful  readers  ;  and  I 
trust  that  the  work  will  not  be  deemed  inappro- 
priate to  those  for  whose  perusal  it  is  more  par- 
ticularly intended. 

J.  G.  E. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  FIRST. 

RESCUE    OF    THE    HOLY    SEPULCHRE. 

chap.  pagb 

1.  Peter  the  Hermit,    .         .        .        .         .        .        •  1 

2.  Pilgrimages  to  Palestine, 6 

3.  Hermit,  Patriarch,  and  Port:,           ....  13 

4.  The  Pilgrim  Princes, 21 

6.  The  Peasant  Pilgrims, 27 

6.  Walter  the  Penniless, 37 

7.  Satan's  Soldiers  in  Christ's  Livery,       ...  41 

8.  Alexis  and  the  Pilgrim  Princes,          .        .        .  48 

9.  BoEMUND  OF  Tarentum, 54 

10.  The  Siege  of  Nice, 59 

11.  The  Battle  of  Dogorgan, 66 

12.  The  Siege  of  Antioch, 74 

18.  Emipher  and  Boemund, 82 

14.  The  Great  Battle, 87 

15.  Siege  of  the  Holy  City, 96 

a* 


VI  CONTENTS. 

BOOK   SECOND. 

THE    KINGDOM    OF    JERUSALEM. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

1.  Godfrey  axd  his  Successors, 107 

2.  The  Fall  of  Edessa, 118 

3.  The  Preaching  of  St.  Bernard,        .        .        .         v  122 

4.  Much  Bruit  and  Little  Fruit,     ....  127 

5.  The  Hospitallers  and  the  Templ.4.rs,       .        .        .  137 

6.  Affairs  of  the  East, 141 

7.  Saladin  the  Great, 149 

8.  The  Conference  of  Gisors, 160 

9.  Frederick  Barbarossa,     ...*..  163 

10.  The  Voyage  of  Cceur  de  Lion,      ....  170 

11.  The  Siege  of  Acre,            180 

12.  Battle  of  Assltb,            .*....  189 

13.  After  Assur, 197 

14.  Richard's  Return, 208 

15.  Sack  of  the  Holy  City, 214 

BOOK  THIRD. 

THE    EXPEDITION    OF    ST.  LOUIS. 

1.  The  S-Unt-King,        ..♦..-.  222 

2.  France  in  Motion, ~^28 

3.  The  Earls  or  Salisbury  and  Dunbae.      .        .         .  233 

4.  The  King  and  the  Chronicler,    ....  238 

5.  The  Capture  of  Damietta, 243 


CONTENTS.  VU 

CHAP.  PAGE 

6.  Discord  and  Disoedeb, 249 

7.  The  Emir  Fakreddin, 255 

8.  The  j\Lajich  to  Maxsouraii, 259 

9.  BiBARS  Bexdocdar, 266 

10.  The  Battle  of  Mansourah, 269 

11.  Disasters  and  Caiajmities, 280 

12.  The  Queen  at  Damietta, 288 

13.  The  Last  of  the  Atoubites, 293 

IL  The  Saixt-Klxg's  Return, 300 

BOOK  FOURTH. 

THE    LAST    STKUGGLE. 

1.  A  Sultana  and  the  SLoielukes,      ....  305 

2.  The  Conqueror  of  Evesham, 310 

3.  The  Saint-King  in  Old  Age, 316 

4.  Prince  Edward  and  his  Knights,        .        .        .  320 

5.  The  French  at  Tunis, 326 

6.  Edward  on  his  Voyage, 332 

7.  Relief  of  Acre, 336 

8.  Edward  in  the  East, 341 

9.  Henry  of  Cornwall, 350 

10  The  Prince  and  the  Assassin,      ....  357 

11.  Edwae.d's  Return, 362 

12.  Mameluke  Sultans, •.  366 

13.  The  City  of  Refuge, 371 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

The  Preachinq  op  Peter  the  Hermit,          Frontispiece  17 

The  Death  of  Count  Robert  op  Paris,     •        .        .  69 

Godfrey  of  Bouillox  at  the  Tomb  of  Christ,     .        .  105 

Conflict  on  the  Heights  near  Lo.aj)icea,          .        .  132 

The  Meeting  op  Henry  and  Philip  at  Gisors,     .        .  160 

Cceur  de  Lion  on  the  Battle-Field  op  Assur,  .        .  191 

LONGSWORD  and  THE  CoUNT  OF  ArTOIS  BEFORE  SaINT-LoUIS,  253 

Landing  op  the  Conqueror  of  Evesham  at  Acre,        .  341 


THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


BOOK  FIRST. 
RESCUE    OF   THE   HOLY  SEPULCHRE. 


CHAPTER   I. 


PETER    THE    HERMIT. 


About  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  feudal- 
ism was  rampant.  That  great  system,  having  rescued 
Europe  from  chaos  and  anarchy,  was  rapidly  attaining 
its  complete  development.  Feudal  laws  decided  claims  ; 
feudal  customs  regulated  society  ;  feudal  castles,  de- 
fended by  rampart  and  moat,  crowned  every  height ; 
and  feudal  magnates,  wearing  chain  mail,  bestriding 
mettled  steeds,  and  attended  by  mounted  spearmen, 
rode  about  imposing  awe  alike  on  mitred  priests  and 
crowned  kings,  on  peasants  occupied  with  tillage  and 
burs^hers  engao-ed  in  trade. 

At   that   period,   when    feudal    chiefs   exercised    an 

influence    which    enabled    them    to    defy   kings    and 

oppress  people,  Eustace,  Count  of  Bouillon,  was  one 

of  the  great  nobles  of  Europe.     From  his  ancestors, 

1 


2  THE    CUTJSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Eustace  inherited  power  and  authority  ;  and  by  mar- 
riage with  the  heiress  of  Lorraine,  he  greatly  added 
to  his  weahh  and  importance.  The  designation  of 
Count,  as  understood  in  modern  days,  of  course  con- 
veys no  idea  of  the  grandeur  of  such  a  man.  The 
Count  of  almost  every  French  province  maintained  a 
state  which  threw  royalty  into  the  shade.  When  at 
peace,  his  board  was  surrounded  by  seneschals,  cup- 
bearers, and  pages,  falconers  and  minstrels.  When  at 
war,  his  banner  was  attended  by  knights,  squires,  and 
grooms,  vavasours  and  varlets. 

Amono;  those  who  fed  at  the  board  and  rode  under 
the  banner  of  the  Count  of  Bouillon,  was  a  young 
man  who  could  hardly  have  failed  to  attract  notice. 
He  was  a  native  of  Amiens ;  and  his  name  was  Peter. 
Some  said  he  was  of  patrician  origin  ;  but  nature  had 
denied  him  noble  features  and  a  noble  presence.  In 
truth,  his  face  was  plain  even  to  ugliness,  and  his 
stature  was  so  short,  that  contemporaries  called  him 
"  little  Peter."  But  he  was  gifted  with  a  quick  intel- 
lect and  wondrous  eloquence.  When  he  spoke,  his  eye 
brightened  with  the  fire  of  genius  ;  and  his  enthusi- 
asm was  such  that  he  carried  away  the  feelings  of 
listeners  in  spite  of  their  judgment. 

At  the  openmg  of  his  career,  Peter,  in  pursuit  of 
happiness,  determined  on  a  dash  at  matrimony,  and 
wedded  a  lady  of  the  family  of  Roussy.  The  marriage, 
however,  would  seem  to  have  been  contracted  without 
any  excessive  degree  of  prudence.  The  bride  was  old 
and  apparently  as  unattractive  as  the  bridegroom  was 
eccentric  ;  and  domestic  feuds  were  doubtless  the  con- 
sequence.    In  any  case,  Peter,  growing  weary  of  his 


PETER    THE    HERMIT.  3 

plain  spouse's  company,  began  to  look  wistfully  toward 
those  religious  houses,  situated  in  pleasant  places  and 
shaded  by  stately  trees,  where  holy  men,  dedicated  to 
God's  service,  kept  alive  the  flame  of  ancient  learning, 
and  dispensed  befitting  charities  to  the  indigent  and 
poor.  Ere  long,  he  found  himself  a  widower,  gave 
way  to  his  restless  mood,  threw  aside  his  steel  cap  and 
coat  of  mail,  and  broke  the  ties  that  bound  him  to  a 
world  with  which  he  could  not  sympathise. 

But  Peter  had  been  born  with  a  spirit  which,  until 
satisfied  with  some  mighty  achievement,  could  not 
know  repose.  His  brain  was  quite  as  restless  under 
the  monk's  hood,  as  it  had  been  under  the  warrior's 
basnet.  Every  day  his  existence  was  troubled  with 
regrets.  The  errors  of  youth  and  the  absurdities  of 
manhood  remained  in  his  memory,  and  perpetually 
presented  themselves  to  his  mind's  eye  in  their  worst 
colors.  Having  sought,  without  finding,  rest  in  the 
cloister,  Peter,  tired  of  monastic  as  he  had  tired  of 
military  life  ;  and  assuming  the  garb  of  an  anchorite, 
he  passed  liis  days  and  nights  in  meditation,  fasting, 
and  prayer.  Whenever  seen  by  accident,  he  appeared 
in  the  weeds  of  a  "  sohtary,"  and  soon  became  known 
as  "  the  Hermit." 

Notwithstanding  mortifications  of  the  body,  Peter's 
soul  remained  unsatisfied.  Penance  and  devotional 
exercises  were  of  no  avail  in  dispeUing  restlessness  of 
spirit.  Memory  brought  back  the  past  ;  and  imagina- 
tion conjured  up  a  future.  In  his  silent  cell  he  still 
felt  a  craving  for  excitement  ;  and  as  enthusiasm, 
favored  by  sohtude,  elevated  his  soul  above  facts  and 
circumstances,   he   surrounded    himself  whh   visions, 


4  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

which  convinced  him  that  he  was  designed  by  Heaven 
to  accompUsh  something  great. 

While  Peter,  in  his  soHtary  cell,  thus  gave  way  to , 
enthusiasm.  Christians  every  year  assumed  "  the  scal- 
lop shell  and  sandal  schoori,"  and  made  pilgrimages  to 
the  East.  An  especial  virtue  was  supposed  to  attach 
to  the  Holy  Land  ;  and  persons  of  all  ranks,  with  an 
idea  of  atoning  for  their  sins,  were  in  the  habit  of 
repairing  to  pray  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Even  in 
this  life,  a  man  derived  advantages  from  having  made 
the  pilgrimage  ;  and  his  departure  and  return  were 
celebrated  with  rehgious  ceremonies.  Ere  setting  forth, 
he  was  presented  by  priests  with  a  staff,  a  scrip,  and 
a  gown,  marked  with  the  cross,  sprinkled  with  holy 
water,  and  ceremoniously  accompanied  to  the  boun- 
daries of  his  parish.  If  the  pilgrim  returned,  he  was 
regarded  with  a  mysterious  veneration  ;  and,  after  pre- 
senting a  palm  branch  to  the  priest  to  be  deposited  on 
the  altar,  he  acquired  the  reputation  of  extraordinary 
sanctity  and  the  privileges  which  accompany  such  a 
.  reputation. 

About  the  year  1094,  Peter  the  Hermit  resolved 
upon  an  expedition  to  Jerusalem.  With  a  brain  on 
fire,  and  in  a  mood  the  reverse  of  serene,  he  prepared 
to  fulfil  his  pious  purpose  ;  and  set  out  from  his  native 
town.  Princes,  peers,  and  prelates  had  trodden  the 
path  he  pursued.  They,  however,  had  died  by  the 
way,  or  returned  merely  to  boast  of  having  seen  the 
Holy  City.  Peter,  as  he  left  Amiens,  with  no  de- 
fence but  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  no  guide  but  his 
sanguine  spirit,  and  journeyed  from  place  to  place, 
faring  as  he  best  could,  and  causing  surprise  by  his 


PETER    THE    HERMIT.  5 

excited  manner  and  eccentric  gestures,  probably  in- 
dulged in  anticipations  of  far  different  results  from  his 
adventure.  Men,  who  granted  him  hospitality  and 
asked  his  prayers  in  requital,  little  dreamt  what  great 
idea  was  occupying  his  mind  and  agitating  his  frame. 
They  would  have  wondered  had  they  been  told  what 
influence  the  odd-looking  pilgrim  was  to  have  on  the 
destinies  of  Europe  and  of  Asia. 


THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER   II. 


PILGRIMAGES    TO    PALESTINE. 

When  Peter  the  Hermit  assumed  the  scrip  and  staff 
at  Amiens,  and  travelled  eastward  on  his  way  to 
Jerusalem,  Christians  had  for  centuries  been  in  the 
habit  of  making  pilgrimages  to  Palestine. 

It  was  while  Constantino  the  Great  wore  the  im- 
perial purple,  and  ere  yet  the  seat  of  empire  had  been 
removed  from  Rome  to  Constantinople,  that  Christians 
began  to  manifest  interest  in  the  Holy  City.  Destroyed 
by  the  Romans  under  Titus,  and  rebuilt  by  the  Romans 
under  Adrian,  Jerusalem  enlisted  the  pious  sympathies 
of  Helena,  widow  of  Constantius  Chlorus  ;  and,  in  326, 
the  Empress,  then  in  her  eightieth  year,  undertook  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  places  which  had  witnessed  the  birth 
and  crucifixion  of  the  Redeemer  of  mankind,  and  ren- 
dered her  visit  memorable  by  founding  the  church  of 
the  Nativity  at  Bethlehem.  Influenced  by  his  mother's 
example,  Constantino  built  a  magnificent  church  on 
the  site  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  made  explorations, 
which  resulted  in  the  discovery  of  the  true  cross ; 
and  so  smoothed  the  way,  that  Christians  freed  from 
fear  of  persecution,  and  secure  under  protection  of  the 
Roman  eagles,  resorted  eagerly  to  Palestine. 

The   privileges,   however,  which   the  pilgrims  en- 


PILGRIMAGES    TO    PALESTIXE.  7 

joyed  proved  temporary.  Julian,  the  nephew  of 
Constantme,  on  succeeding  to  the  imperial  throne,  and 
abjuring  the  Christian  faith,  treated  its  professors 
as  visionaries,  and  even  attempted  to  Aveaken  the 
authority  of  prophecies  hy  rebuilding  the  temple. 
This  operation  entrusted  to  Jews,  was  commenced 
with  vigor. '  But  the  death  of  the  apostate  Emperor 
put  a  stop  to  the  work ;  and  Christians  thanking  God 
for  having  confounded  the  designs  of  the  Heathen, 
continued  their  pilgrimages  with  renewed  ardor. 

No  sooner  had  the  warlike  nations  of  the  West  been 
converted  from  the  worship  of  Thor  and  Odin  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  than  they  became  eager  to 
visit  those  places  where  their  Redeemer  had  taught 
and  suffered,  made  the  blind  to  see  and  the  lame  to 
walk,  restored  life  to  the  dead  and  given  hope  to  the 
living.  The  roads  to  Zion  were  crowded  with  pilgrims, 
eager  to  worship  at  the  Sepulchre  ;  Jerusalem  became 
the  seat  of  a  patriarch  ;  new  and  splendid  churches 
were  erected;  monasteries  sprung  up  on  the  banks  of 
rivers  and  on  the  sides  of  mountains ;  and  thousands 
of  Europeans  remained  in  Palestine  to  devote  then* 
lives  to  works  of  beneficence  and  charity. 

But  evil  days  were  at  hand.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  seventh  century,  while  Herachus  occupied  the 
throne  of  Constantinople,  the  Persians,  who  had  long 
been  formidable  foes  of  the  Empire,  penetrated  to 
Palestine,  and  under  their  king,  Cosroes,  took  the 
Holy  City  by  storm,  and  destroyed  the  church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  After  shedding  much  blood,  and 
doing  much  mischief,  they  withdrew,  carrying  with 
them  the  true  cross,  the  patriarch,  and  many  of  the 


8      THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

principal  inhabitants.  After  ten  years  of  mourning 
and  vv'oe,  however,  the  scene  chemged,  and  Heraclius, 
triumphing  over  his  Pagan  foes,  brought  back  the 
survivmg  captives.  Deeming  the  true  cross  by  far 
the  most  glorious  of  his  trophies,  the  Emperor  entered 
the  city  walking  barefoot,  and  carrying  the  sacred  relic 
on  his  shoulders. 

Heraclius  now  prepared  to  repair  the  sacred  edifices, 
which  the  Persians  had  profaned  and  damaged.  Every- 
thing, indeed,  seemed  prosperous,  and  Christians  con- 
gratulated each  other  on  their  troubles  being  at  an  end. 
But  at  this  period  the  East  was  astonished  by  the  rise 
of  the  Saracens,  a  new  race,  destined  as  conquerors, 
to  display  a  degree  of  energy  which  enabled  them  to 
influence,  m  a  remarkable  manner,  the  fortunes  of  the 
world. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  the  seventh  decade  of  the  sixth 
century,  while  the  heirs  of  Adolphe  the  Goth  were 
flourishing  in  Spain,  and  the  heirs  of  Clovis  were 
cutting  each  other's  throats  in  France,  that  Mahomet 
drew  his  first  breath  in  the  city  of  Mecca.  Nothing 
in  his  birth  or  boyhood  indicated  the  influence  he  was 
destined  to  exercise.  From  his  earliest  youth,  how- 
ever, he  indulged  in  rehgious  meditations,  and  ere 
long  conceived  the  idea  of  feigning  a  mission  and 
founding  a  faith.  Every  year,  with  this  view,  Ma- 
homet retired  to  a  cave,  and,  pretending  to  conferences 
with  the  angel  Gabriel,  he  at  length  produced  the 
Koran,  and  declared  that  there  was  only  one  God,  and 
that  Mahomet  was  the  prophet  of  God. 

The  imposture  was  not  perpetrated  without  incon- 
venience.   Mecca  became  the  scene  of  popular  tumult, 


PILGKIMAGES    TO    PALESTINE.  9 

and  the  pretended  prophet,  at  the  age  of  fifty-three, 
fled  to  Medina.  Mahomet,  however,  did  not  despair  ; 
and  joined  by  Omar,  a  vahant  soldier,  he  proceeded 
to  propagate  his  doctrines,  subdued  all  Arabia,  and  took 
several  cities  of  Syria. 

At  the  age  of  sixty-three  Mahomet  expired  in  the 
midst  of  his  successes.  But  the  warriors  who  had 
followed  his  fortunes  prosecuted  his  conquests,  and 
Omar,  elected  to  the  caliphate,  a^ter  seizing  Eg\'pt 
and  the  whole  of  Persia,  wrenched  Syria  from  the 
Empire  of  Constantinople.  At  an  early  period  of  their 
victorious  career,  the  Saracens  advanced  some  mys- 
terious claim  to  Jerusalem;  and, in  G36,  they  appeared 
in  hostile  array  before  the  walls.  "  Let  us,"  they  said, 
approaclimg  the  city,  "  enter  into  the  holy  place  which 
God  has  promised." 

After  sustaining  a  siege  of  four  months'  duration, 
the  Christians  agreed  to  surrender  ;  and  Omar,  enter- 
ing Jerusalem  in  his  garment  of  camel's  wool,  ordered 
the  mosque  bearing  his  name  to  be  erected  on  the  site 
of  the  Temple.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  austere 
Caliph  exhibited  forbearance,  and  left  the  vanquished 
liberty  to  exercise  their  religion.  But  Christians,  pre- 
vented from  ringing  their  bells  and  displaying  their 
crosses,  were  perpetually  reminded  of  lost  privileges, 
and  the  Patriarch,  yielding  to  grief,  sickened  and  died. 
"  Alas  !  alas  !  "  exclaimed  the  godly  man,  ''  the  abomi- 
nation of  desolation  is  in  the  holy  place !  " 

The  presence  of  jMoslem  rulers  in  Syria  and  Pales- 
tine did  not  prevent  pilgrimages  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 
Indeed,  when  the  heirs  of  Omar  ceased  to  reign  as 
cahphs,   and    the   Abassidcs,    Mahomet's    male    heirs, 


10     THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADERS. 

established  their  throne  at  Bagdad,  Christians  found 
their  poshion  at  Jerusalem  far  from  intolerable.  Haroun 
Alraschid,  the  great  caliph  of  liis  dynasty,  prompted 
by  respect  for  the  name  of  Charlemagne,  regarded 
them  with  favor,  and  treated  them  with  kindness.  All 
pilgrims  to  the  Holy  City,  without  danger,  found  en- 
tertainment in  an  hospital,  composed  of  twelve  hostel- 
ries,  and  surrounded  by  gardens  and  vineyards,  in  the 
vale  of  Jehoshaphat ;  and  many  found  a  last  resting- 
place  in  a  cemetery,  shaded  with  trees  and  dotted  with 
cells,  near  the  fountain  of  Shiloe. 

Under  protection  of  the  black  banner  of  the  Abas- 
side  cahphs.  Christians  for  a  time  prayed  in  peace  and 
worshipped  in  security.  But,  about  the  middle  of  the 
tenth  century,  events  occurred  to  blast  their  hopes  and 
destroy  their  comfort.  The  Abasside  dynasty  no 
loncrer  produced  men  capable  of  dealing  with  countless 
difficulties  ;  and  the  Fatamites,  clauning  the  caliphate 
as  heirs  of  Ah,  Mahomet's  son  in  law,  fixed  their 
throne  at  Cairo,  and  projected  the  conquest  of  Syria. 

This  crisis  roused  the  Emperor  of  Constantinople, 
and  an  effort  was  made  to  save  the  Christians  from 
impending  danger.  At  first,  fortune  smiled  on  the  en- 
terprise ;  but  the  death  of  the  Greek  Emperor  soon 
rendered  it  hopeless.  Jerusalem  surrendered  in  960, 
and  the  black  banner  of  the  Abassides  was  displaced 
by  the  green  flag  of  the  Fatimiteat 

For  a  time,  the  Caliphs  of  Cairo  treated  the  Chris- 
tians with  some  degree  of  favor ;  indeed  they  felt 
anxious  to  enrich  their  dominions,  so  long  desolated 
by  war,  and  encouraged  pilgrimages  for  the  sake  of 
the  gold  and  silver  received  in  exchange  for  relics  and 


PILGRIMAGES    TO    PALESTINE.  11 

consecrated  trinkets.  During  the  first  five  decades  of 
the  eleventh  century,  saints  and  sinners  flocked  from 
the  West  to  Jerusalem.  A  behef  prevailed  in  Europe 
that  the  "  second  coming  of  Christ  "  was  at  hand ;  and 
the  attractions  of  the  Holy  City  became  more  irresistible 
than  ever.  People  of  all  ranks,  in  hopes  of  atoning 
for  their  sins,  rushed  to  the  East  ;  and  a  Duke  of  Nor- 
mandy, the  father  of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  a 
Count  of  Anjou,  the  ancestor  of  the  Plantagenets,  ap- 
peared among  those  who  assumed  the  garb  of  pilgrims. 
The  Caliphs,  glad  of  such  an  opportunity  to  replenish 
the  treasury,  demanded  a  piece  of  gold  from  every 
one  who  entered  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  ;  and,  as 
most  of  the  Christians  left  home  with  nothing  but  their 
scrip  and  statf,  the  exaction  of  this  tribute  proved  most 
cruel. 

But  whatever  their  trials  under  the  government  of 
the  Fatimites,  Christians,  ere  long,  found  themselves 
in  the  power  of  masters  still  less  merciful.  While  the 
luxury  of  Bagdad  and  Cairo  was  debilitating  the  de- 
scendants of  men  who  had  followed  the  banner  of 
Mahomet  and  Omar,  from  the  deserts  beyond  the 
Oxus  came  bands  of  fierce  horsemen,  with  woollen 
caps  and  wooden  stirrups,  to  continue  the  struggle  of 
Moslem  against  Christian.  These  Turks  after  seizing 
the  Empire  of  Persia,  embraced  the  Mahometan  faith, 
allied  themselves  with  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad,  attacked 
the  possessions  of  the  Fatimites,  and  speedily  restored 
the  banners  of  the  Abassides  to  the  walls  of  the  cities 
of  Syria. 

Jerusalem  naturally  excited  the  ambition  of  this 
new  band  of  Moslem  warriors  ;  and,  in  1065,  the  Holy 


12  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

City  jdelded  to  their  impetuous  assault.  Entering 
where  Roman,  and  Persian,  and  Arabian  had  come 
before  them,  the  Turks  slaughtered  and  devastated 
without  the  slightest  distinction.  Mosques  and  churches 
were  given  up  to  pillage,  and  the  blood  of  Christian 
and  Egyi)tian  flowed  in  the  same  stream. 

While  one  army  of  Moslems  wrested  Jerusalem 
from  the  Fatimites,  another,  having  captured  Edessa 
and  Antioch,  proceeded  to  wrest  Nice  from  the  Greeks. 
Dominant  in  Asia  ^rlinor,  a  Turk  named  Soliman 
erected  his  throne  at  Nice  ;  and  in  that  city,  fifty  miles 
from  the  capital  of  the  Empire  of  the  East,  the  Mos- 
lem warriors,  occupying  as  it  were,  an  advanced  post, 
awaited  a  favorable  0])portunity  to  cross  the  Bospho- 
rus,  possess  themselves  of  Constantinople,  and  pre- 
cipitate themselves  on  Christendom. 

With  ferocious  foes  in  Jerusalem,  and  ferocious 
foes  in  Asia  Minor,  Christians  in  the  East  found  their 
plight  deplorable.  Those  who  resided  in  the  Holy 
City  were  exposed  to  cruel  persecutions.  Those  who 
made  pilgrimages  from  Europe  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
•were  exposed  to  extreme  peril.  When  Peter  the 
Hermit  turned  his  thoughts  towards  Palestine,  matters 
had  come  to  the  worst.  Christians  were  beaten  with 
rods,  loaded  with  chains,  sold  as  slaves,  and  harnessed 
like  oxen.  Never  had  they  felt  so  much  misery,  never 
had  they  entertained  so  little  hope,  as  when  Peter  took 
the  cross  at  Amiens,  and  turned  his  steps  eastward  to 
worship  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 


HERMIT,  PATRIARCH,  AXI)    POPE.  13 


CHAPTER   III. 


HERMIT,   PATRIARCH,  AND  POPE. 

One  day,  in  the  year  1094,  when  the  conquest  of 
England  by  the  Normans  had  inspired  feudal  warriors 
with  a  desu'e  for  adventurous  expeditions,  a  little  man, 
mounted  on  a  mule,  might  have  been  observed  to 
ascend  the  heights  of  Emmaus,  and  come  in  sight  of 
Jerusalem.  The  appearance  of  the  rider  was  most 
eccentric  ;  indeed,  the  woollen  mantle  gathered  round 
his  person,  the  thick  cord,  that  girded  his  waist,  the 
monk's  hood  thrown  over  his  head,  and  the  sandals  on 
his  feet,  formed  a  costume  so  grotesque  as  to  attract 
notice  wherever  he  appeared.  But  the  rider,  being 
Peter  the  Hermit,  was  probably  in  no  mood  to  notice 
criticism  ;  for  his  soul  must  have  glowed  with  ardor  as 
he  ambled  onwards  to  the  Holy  City. 

Jerusalem  could  no  longer  have  been  described  as 
the  most  glorious  city  of  tne  East.  All  the  grandeur 
by  which  she  was  distinguished,  when  peace  was  within 
her  walls,  and  prosperity  within  her  palaces,  had  de- 
parted. Formed  of  mosques,  and  churches,  and  square 
houses,  surmounted  by  flat  terraces,  situated  on  four 
hills,  encircled  by  a  strong  wall  which  undulated  with 
the  uneven  ground,  and  surrounded  by  sterile  plains 
and  barren  mountains,  where  a  few  thorns  and  oliycg 
2 


14     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

Struggled  into  growth,  and  where  a  solitary  palm  tree, 
here  and  there,  stood  erect,  the  city  presented  an 
aspect  suggestive  of  mournful  reflections.  But  the  eye 
of  such  a  man  as  the  Hermit  met  everywhere  with 
objectsto  excite  his  rehgious  enthusiasm.  His  fervor 
was  roused  to  the  highest  pitch  when  he  gazed  with 
entranced  eye  on  Zion  and  Olivet,  and  on  Moriah, 
where  the  site  of  the  Temple  was  occupied  by  Omar's 
mosque,  and  on  Calvary,  where  the  church  of  the 
Resurrection  stood  as  a  monument  of  Constantino's 
piety. 

'  At  Jerusalem  Peter  took  up  his  residence  under 
the  roof  of  a  Latin  Christian,  and  soon  drew  his  host 
into  interesting  conversation.  The  recital  of  all  the 
woes  endured  by  Christians  in  the  Holy  City  made  the 
Hermit's  blood  boil.  While  listening  to  an  account 
of  the  oppressions  and  indignities  of  which  they  were 
the  victims,  he  glowed  with  indignation,  and  occupied 
himself  perpetually  with  meditating  schemes  for  their 
relief. 

At  length,  one  day,  when  the  Hermit  had,  with  a 
crowd  of  pilgrims  ascended  Mount  Calvary,  and  pros- 
trated himself  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  a  celestial  voice 
seemed  to  sound  in  his  ear.  "  Peter,"  it  said,  "  arise  ! 
Hasten  to  proclaim  the  tribulation  to  my  people.  For 
it  is  time  that  my  servants  should  be  aided,  and  that 
the  holy  places  should  be  freed !  "  The  enthusiast, 
after  listening  to  these  words  entertained  no  doubt 
that  he  was  desinrned  bv  Heaven  to  deliver  Jerusalem. 
"Rising  from  the  ground  he  repaired  to  the  house  of 
the  Patriarch. 

The    Patriarchate    of    Jerusalem,  which    had   been 


HERMIT,  rATKIARCH,  AND  POrE.  15 

created  in  457,  was  not,  in  1094,  a  dignity  which  the 
worldly  or  luxurious  were  likely  to  covet.  Indeed,  it 
seems  to  have  brought  little  with  it  but  persecution 
and  peril.  Simeon,  who  now  held  the  office  was  a 
man  advanced  in  life,  with  white  hair  and  a  most 
venerable  figure.  But  neither  his  white  head  nor  his 
venerable  figure  availed  to  save  him  from  injury  and 
insult.  He  bewailed  the  condition  of  the  Holy  City, 
and  wept  over  the  woes  of  the  faithful. 

"  But  can  no  remedy  be  devised  .?  "  asked  Peter, 
after  the  Patriarch  had  bewailed  the  unhappy  plight  of 
his  people  ;  "  can  no  termination  to  such  calamities  be 
expected  ?  " 

"  Most  faithful  of  Christians,"  answered  Simeon, 
"  it  is  plain  that  our  sins  have  shut  us  out  from  the 
mercy  of  God,  and  that  no  power  on  earth  can  assist 
us." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Peter,  with  glistening  eye,  "  there  is 
a  power.  The  warriors  of  the  West  will  ere  long  set 
Jerusalem  free." 

"  Doubtless,"  said  the  Patriarch,  with  pious  resig- 
nation, "  when  the  measure  of  our  afflictions  shall  be 
full,  (4od  may  touch  the  hearts  of  princes,  and  send 
them  to  our  succor." 

"  If  the   people  of  Europe   had  evidence   of  your 

miseries,"  said  Peter,  excitedly,  "  they  would  come  to 

the  rescue  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.     Write,  therefore, 

to  the  Pope,  and  to  the  Latin  Christians,  and  affix  your 

seal  to  the  epistle.     I  will,  as  a  penance  for  my  sins, 

travel  through  the  "^Vest,  and   urge  them  to  save  you 

from  longer  do  'on." 

-iio"  was  ' 

After  .t^;^j^^.^  ^^^  ..'ation,  the  Patriarch  and  the  Her- 

2* 


16  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEES. 

mit  shed  tears  of  joy  at  the  idea  of  deUverance. 
Though  probably  not  quite  so  sanguine  as  his  coadjutor, 
Simeon  addressed  letters  to  the  Pope  ;  and  Peter, 
having  promised  to  rouse  Christendom  to  arms,  left 
Jerusalem  to  return  to  Europe. 

Having   made   his  way   to   Rome,  Peter  craved   an 
audience  of  the  Pope.     A  native  of  France,  with  the 
title  of   Urban  the   Second,  then   figured  as  vicar  cf 
Christ.     The  idea  of  a   war    for    the    deliverance   of 
Jerusalem    was   neither    new    nor    unpleasing    to    this 
personage  ;   for  the  great  Hildebrand  had  thought  of 
such  an  expedition  as  likely  to   contribute  to  the  Papal 
power ;  and  Urban,  a  disciple  of  Hildebrand,  was  not 
blind  to  its  advantages.     On  being  admitted  to  Urban's 
presence,    therefore,    Peter    had    the    gratification    of 
finding   that    his    project    was    regarded    with    favor. 
In   eveiy   respect  the    interview   between  the  Hermit 
and  the  Pope  appears  to  have  been  most  satisfactoiy. 
Urban  treating  Peter  as   a  pro})het,  commissioned  him 
to   rouse  the  warriors   of  Europe  ;    and   the   Hermit, 
mounting  his  mule,  fared   forth  to   preach  a  holy  war 
and  promise  Heaven  to  all  who  sliould  take  part  in  the 
enterprise. 

Never  was  enthusiast  more  successful  in  convincins: 
mankind  of  the  grandeur  of  his  idea.  Crossing  the 
Alps,  and  penetrating  into  France,  Peter  electrified 
castle  and  city,  town  and  hamlet  with  his  eloquence. 
All  France  was  soon  in  a  blaze,  and  Frank  lord  and 
Gaulish  slave  manifested  equal  ardor.  Sometimes  he 
preached  in  a  church,  sometimes  q*-  the  market-cross, 
and  sometimes  under    a   tree    by}  "'ayside.  *  But 

wherever  he  appeared,  people  revV?  which   is  a  saint, 


HERMIT,  PATRIARCH,  AND  POPE.  17 

crowded  around  him,  followed  his  footsteps,  and  doomed 
themselves  happy  if  they  could  touch  the  hem  of  his 
mantle,  or  pluck  a  hair  from  the  mane  of  his  mule. 
Ere  long  his  fame  crossed  the  Channel,  and  the  minds 
of  victor  Norman  and  vanquished  Saxon  were  alike 
fired  with  zeal.  All  hailed  the  Hermit  as  "the  man 
of  God,"  and  expressed  their  eagerness  to  be  led 
against  the  enemies  of  their  religion. 

While  Peter  was  riding  over  Europe  and  preaching 
a  holy  war,  the  Pope  did  not  neglect  the  grand  project 
to  which  he  had  given  his  countenance.  At  this  very 
time,  when  Peter  was  rousing  Christendom  to  arm  for 
the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  ambassadors 
reached  Rome  to  intimate  the  danger  which  existed  of 
Constantinople  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Moslem. 
In  fact  the  Greeks  no  longer  possessed  the  courage  to 
fight  their  own  battles,  and  the  Emperor  Alexis  Com- 
menus  appealed  for  aid  to  the  Pope  and  the  Princes  of 
Europe.  To  the  Pope,  Alexis  pointed  out  the  danger, 
to  which  Christicuiity  would  be  exposed,  in  the  event  of 
infidels  capturing  Constantinople  ;  to  the  Princes  of 
the  West,  he  promised  treasures  as  the  reward  of  their 
services,  and  hinted  that  the  love  of  the  Greek  women, 
whose  charms  he  described  in  glowing  terms,  would 
repay  their  country's  champions. 

After  seriously  musing  over  the  project  of  Peter, 
and  considering  the  message  of  Alexis,  Urban  con- 
voked a  council  at  Placentia,  and  there,  at  the  Pope's 
summons,  hundreds  of  prelates,  thousands  of  eccle- 
siastics, and  tens  of  thousands  of  laymen  assembled. 
The  gathering  was  so  numerous  that  the  council  was 
held  in  a  plain  outside  the  city  ;  and  after  the  ambas- 
2* 


18  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

sadors  of  Alexis  bad  implored  the  aid  of  the  warriors 
of  the  AVest,  Urban  pointed  out  the  duty  and  the 
necessity  of  saving  Constantinople  and  Jerusalem. 
Nevertheless,  the  Council  after  occupying  days  with 
other  matters,  separated  without  coming  to  any  de- 
cision as  to  a  holy  war. 

No  sooner,  however,  did  the  Council  of  Placentia 
break  up,  than  Urban  convoked  a  Council  at  Clermont. 
At  that  place  three  hundred  bishops  and  a  multitude 
of  princes  and  nobles  presented  themselves.  It  was 
winter,  the  season  was  severe,  and  the  ground  was 
covered  with  snow.  Nevertheless  the  Pope,  braving 
cold  and  fatigue,  crossed  the  Alps  to  preside,  and  found 
Clermont  like  a  vast  camp.  The  city  was  crowded 
with  princes,  prelates,  and  ambassadors  ;  every  town 
and  village  in  the  neighborhood  was  thronged  ;  and, 
cold  as  was  the  season,  multitudes  were  lodged  beneath 
pavilions  and  tents  in  the  meadows  and  the  fields. 

For  several  days  the  Council  of  Clermont  was  oc- 
cupied with  questions  in  which  few  of  those  assembled 
took  interest ;  and  the  majority  who  thought  of  nothing 
but  an  expedition  to  Palestine,  manifested  impatience. 
At  length,  on  the  tenth  day,  the  Council  held  a  sitting 
in  the  great  square  of  the  city  :  and  the  Pope,  accom- 
panied by  Peter  the  tiermit,  and  attended  by  cardinals, 
ascended  a  throne,  and  described  in  pathetic  language, 
the  desolation  of  the  Holy  Places. 

"  Christian  warriors,"  said  Urban,  addressing  the 
assembled  multitude,  "  rejoice  for  you,  who  without 
ceasing  seek  vain  pretexts  for  war,  have  to-day  found 
true  ones.  You  are  not  now  called  to  avenge  the  in- 
juries of  men,  but  injuries  offered  to  God  ;  and  it  is  not 


HEllMIT,  PATRIARCH,  AND  POPE.  19 

now  a  town  or  castle  that  will  reward  your  valor, 
but  the  wealth  of  Asia,  and  a  land  flowing  with  milk 
and  honey.  If  you  triumph  over  your  foes,  the  king- 
doms of  the  East  will  be  your  heritage.  If  you  are 
conquered,  you  will  have  the  glory  of  dying  where 
Christ  died.  This  is  the  time  to  prove  that  you  are 
animated  by  a  true  courage,  and  to  expiate  so  many 
violences  committed  in  the  bosom  of  peace.  When 
Christ  summons  you  to  his  defence,  let  no  base  affec- 
tions detain  you  at  home  —  listen  to  nothing  but  the 
groans  of  Jerusalem,  and  remember  that  the  Lord  has 
said  — '  He  that  will  not  take  up  his  cross  and  follow 
me,  is  unworthy  of  me.'  " 

The  speech  of  the  Pope  was  at  first  listened  to  in 
solemn  silence.  Gradually,  however,  as  he  proceeded, 
sobs  broke  from  the  crowd.  Noticing  this,  and  skil- 
fully picturing  the  insolence  of  the  enemies  of  Christ, 
Urban  asked  the  warriors  of  the  West  to  drive  out  the 
handmaid  and  her  children,  and  significantly  reminded 
them  that  if  the  infidels  were  not  encountered  in  Asia, 
they  would  yet  accomplish  the  conquest  of  Europe. 

"  Gird  your  swords  to  your  thighs,  ye  men  of 
might,"  exclaimed  the  Pontiff  in  conclusion  ;  "  it  is 
our  part  to  pray,  and  it  is  yours  to  fight  —  ours  (with 
Moses)  to  hold  up  unwearied  hands ;  yours  to  stretch 
forth  the  sword  against  the  children  of  Amalek." 

"  God  wills  it !  It  is  the  will  of  God  !  "  cried  the 
assembled  Christians,  rising  in  a  mass  as  Urban 
paused. 

"  Yes,"  added  the  Pope,  "  without  doubt  it  is  the 
will  of  God  !     Go,  then,  brave  warriors  of  the  Cross, 


20  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

and  let  the  shout   of  '  God  wills  it ! '  be  your  war-cry 
in  the  holy  enterprise." 

Immediately  after  this  scene  had  been  enacted, 
Urban,  by  a  gesture,  intimated  his  wish  for  silence  ; 
and  while  the  crowd  bent  their  knees,  one  of  the  car- 
dinals pronounced  a  form  of  confession.  Adhemar, 
Bishop  of  Puy,  then  stepping  forward,  asked  to  be 
allowed  to  enter  into  "  the  way  of  God,"  and  received 
from  the  Pope  one  of  the  red  crosses  which  had  been 
consecrated  for  the  ceremony.  Many  knights  and 
barons,  following  the  bishop's  example,  received  the 
sacred  badge,  and  swore  to  avenge  the  cause  of  Christ. 
All  who  took  the  oath,  stitched  the  red  cross  of  silk  or 
cloth  on  the  right  shoulder  of  the  mantle.  After  this 
they  w^ere  termed  "  bearers  of  the  cross,"  and  the 
holy  war,  on  which  they  had  vowed  to  enter,  was 
called  a  Crusade. 

This  ceremony  over,  the  Pope  promised  to  all  who 
assumed  the  cross,  entire  remission  of  sins  :  and  the 
Crusaders  appointed  a  rendezvous  for  the  following 
spring.  The  Council  of  Clermont  was  then  dissolved  ; 
and  while  the  knights  and  barons  separated  to  prepare 
for  their  expedition,  the  Pope  went  on  his  way  re- 
joicing in  the  prospect  of  uniting  the  nations  of 
Christendom  against  the  enemies  of  Christ. 


THE    pilgrim:    nilNCES.  21 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE    riLGHIM    PRINCES. 


After  havlno;  dissolved  the  Council  of  Clermont, 
Urban  the  Second  travelled  through  France  to  preach 
the  crusade  and  describe  the  miseries  of  the  Christians 
in  the  East.  Wherever  the  Pope  went,  men  of  all 
ranks  listened  with  sympathy  ;  and,  far  and  wide, 
spread  rumors  of  the  war  about  to  be  undertaken  for 
the  rescue  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Almost  every 
country  of  Europe  was  agitated  ;  and  in  France,  where 
the  excitement  was  most  felt,  warriors  of  j)ride  and 
nobility  borrowed  money  and  enlisted  men  to  take 
part  in  the  expedition.  Among  the  chiefs,  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon,  Duke  of  Lorraine,  a  man  of  piety,  learning, 
and  courage,  was  most  eminent. 

Godfrey  of  Bouillon  was  son  of  that  old  Count,  in 
whose  household  Peter  the  Hermit  commenced  life  ; 
and  from  his  mother,  in  whose  veins  flowed  Carlovin- 
gian  blood,  he  inherited  the  dukedom  of  Lorraine. 
Few  men  in  Europe  appeared  to  occupy  a  position 
more  enviable  than  Godfrey.  His  name  was  stainless, 
his  reputation  high,  his  influence  great,  his  property 
vast,  and  none  of  his  castles  without  the  means  of  ren- 
dering feudal  life  pleasant.  But  all  these  advantages 
failed  to  insure  happiness  ;  for  memoiy  was  perpetually 
recalling  scenes  in  which  he  had  figured  conspicuously, 


22     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADERS. 

and  in  which  he  had  played  a  part  of  which  his  con- 
science could  no  longer  approve. 

It  appears  that  Godfrey,  born  in  the  castle  of  Baysy, 
and  trained  from  3-outh  at  the  German  court,  was  early 
engaged  in  that  memorable  struggle  between  the  Pope 
and  the  Emperor,  which  is  known  in  history  as  "  The 
War  of  Investiture."  While  fio-htina;  in  that  war  for 
Henry  the  Fourth  against  Hildebrand,  Godfrey  won 
high  renown.  It  was  he  who,  in  the  bloody  battle  on 
the  banks  of  the  Elster,  struck  down,  with  his  own 
hand,  Rodolph  of  Swabia,  whom  Hildebrand  had  gifted 
with  the  crown  of  Germany  ;  and  it  was  he  who,  at  the 
siege  of  Rome,  on  that  day  when  Henry's  banners 
appeared  before  the  Eternal  City,  and  when  Hilde- 
brand took  refuge  in  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  first 
forced  his  way  through  the  walls,  and  opened  the  gate 
to  the  Imperial  troops.  He  had  since  reflected  with 
remorse  on  the  part  he  had  taken  against  the  head  of 
the  church  ;  and  he  now  eagerly  assumed  the  cross,  in 
hopes  of  expiating  exploits  which  he  could  not  recall 
without  sadness. 

No  sacrifices  appeared  to  Godfrey  too  great  to 
entitle  him  to  pardon  for  what  he  deemed  the  sin  of 
having  fought  against  the  vicar  of  Christ.  Not  only 
did  he  with  that  object  exhibit  wilUngness  to  leave  his 
home ;  but  before  doing  so  he  deprived  himself  of 
every  temptation  to  return.  He  alienated  his  castles 
and  domains,  sold  his  cities  and  principalities,  and 
disposed  of  all  right  in  his  duchy.  With  the  money 
thus  obtained  he  arrayed  a  magnificent  army ;  and 
marched  eastward  at  the  head  of  ten  thousand  horse 
and  eighty  thousand  foot.     Godfrey's  brother  Eustace, 


THE    PILGRIM    TRINCES.  23 

Count  of  Bouillon,  his  brother  Baldwin,  and  his  kins- 
man Baldwin  du  Bourg,  accomj)anicd  him,  and  many 
knights  and  nobles  of  the  provhice  joined  his  stand- 
ard. 

At  the  time  when  Godfrey  was  mustering  his  forces, 
other  chiefs  were  preparing  to  share  his  peril  and  his 
glory.  Hugh,  Count  of  Vermandois,  brother  of  the 
King  of  France  ;  Robert,  Count  of  Flanders  ;  Stephen, 
Count  of  Blois ;  and  Count  Robert  of  Paris,  were 
among  the  distinguished. 

But  no  crusader  displayed  more  promptness  than 
Raymond,  Count  of  Thoulouse,  under  whose  banner 
gathered  the  men  of  the  south  of  France.  Raymond 
was  a  warrior  of  age  and  experience,  who  had  fought 
against  the  Saracens  in  Spain  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Cid,  and  wedded  the  daughter  of  the  great  Alphonso. 
But  age  had  not  diminished  his  ardor,  and  he  roused 
hmaself  to  take  part  in  the  enterprise.  "  In  my  youth," 
he  said,  "  I  fought  the  Saracens  m  Europe  ;  and,  in 
my  old  age,  1  will  go  and  fight  them  in  Asia."  The 
Bishop  of  Puy,  who  after  the  Council  of  Clermont  had 
been  named  papal  legate,  accompanied  Raymond  of 
Thoulouse,  and  a  hundred  thousand  men  of  Gascony 
and  Provence  followed  the  old  Count's  standard. 

While  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  Raymond  of  Thoulouse, 
Robert  of  Flanders,  and  Hugh  of  Vermandois,  were 
taking  the  cross,  fame  carried  tidings  of  the  crusade 
to  two  princes,  who  resided  at  the  Castle  of  Rouen. 
They  were  bosom  friends,  though  utterly  unlike,  phy- 
s  cally  and  mentally.  One  was  short  of  stature,  fat  to 
excess,  volatile,  adventurous,  and  ever  aspiring  to 
something  which  he  could  not  attain.     The  other  was 


24     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADERS. 

tall,  handsome,  fair  to  behold,  slow,  unready,  and 
much  too  inert  even  to  claim  a  crown  which  was  his 
by  hereditary  right  and  popular  election.  Both  had 
reached  the  age  of  forty,  displayed  high  courage,  and 
borne  much  adversity.  One  was  Robert  Curthose, 
eldest  son  of  William  the  Conqueror  ;  the  other  was 
Edgar  Athcling,  heir  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kings. 

Excluded  by  his  younger  brother,  William  Rufus, 
from  the  English  throne,  the  situation  of  Curthose  was 
not  enviable.  It  is  true  he  was  Duke  of  Normandy 
and  lord  of  numerous  castles.  But  in  regard  to  pecu- 
niary matters,  he  was  so  improvident  that  he  found 
himself  continually  in  difficulties.  Women  and  para- 
sites, jesters  and  mountebanks,  preyed  without  mercy 
on  his  substance,  and  he  was  sometimes  reduced  to 
ludicrous  distress.  Indeed  the  chronicler  states  that 
he  was  frequently  prevented  from  leaving  his  bed  and 
.being  present  at  mass  for  want  of  decent  clothes. 

While  affairs  in  the  castle  of  Rouen  were  in  this 
unhappy  state,  and  when  the  crusade  became  the 
fashion,  the  imagination  of  Curthose  was  immediately 
inflamed  by  the  idea.  Perhaps  of  all  people  in  Europe, 
he  had  least  temptation  to  stay  at  home.  The  prospect 
of  escaping  from  the  avarice  of  usurers  and  the  inso- 
lence of  duns,  must  under  the  circumstances  have  been 
too  tempting  to  be  resisted  ;  and  Curthose,  resolving 
to  take  part  in  the  expedition,  looked  around  for  money 
to  defray  the  expenses. 

Fortune  proved  rather  propitious  than  otherwise. 
Less  difficulty  was  experienced  in  obtaining  the  means 
than  mi""ht  have  been  anticipated.  William  Rufus,  in 
fact,  was  glad   to   hear  of  his  brother's  intention   of 


THE    PILGRI-M    PRINCES.  25 

leaving  Europe,  and  willing,  on  certain  conditions,  to 
provide  him  with  funds.  A  bargain  was  accordingly- 
struck.  Rufus  furnished  the  sum  of  ten  thousand 
marks,  and  Curthosc  gave  a  mortgage  over  Normandy 
for  five  years. 

When  Curthose  took  the  cross,  Edgar  Atheling  had 
lono;  resided  at  Rouen  -amusina;  himself  with  doo;s 
and  horses,  and  reflecting  with  pliilosophic  calmness 
on  the  crown  of  which  he  had  been  deprived  and  the 
country  from  which  he  had  been  banished.  He  had 
now  passed  the  age  of  forty,  and  suppressed  every 
personal  ambition.  But,  infected  by  the  prevailing 
enthusiasm,  he  resolved  to  take  part  in  the  expedition 
to  Jerusalem,  and  associate  the  history  of  the  House  of 
Cerdic  with  the  history  of  the  Holy  War. 

At  this  period,  however,  a  Scottish  prince,  named 
Donald  Bane,  happened  to  have  usurped  the  throne  of 
Atheling's  nephew  ;  and  the  heir  of  Cerdic  exhibited, 
in  regaining  the  rights  of  his  sister's  son,  a  degree  of 
energy  which  he  had  never  displayed  when  his  own 
interests  were  at  stake.  When  the  crusade  was  preached, 
he  was  just  setting  out  to  head  an  army  of  Anglo- 
Saxons  and  Scoto-Saxons  against- the  usurper.  But  he 
engaged  to  join  Curthose  in  the  Holy  Land,  and  to  lead 
against  Saracens  the  army  with  which  he  was  now 
going  to  conquer  Scots. 

In  the  meantime,  Curthose  was  nobly  attended. 
When  he  set  up  his  white  banner  embroidered  with 
gold,  multitudes  came  readily  to  fight  under  a  leader 
so  generous  and  brave.  A  goodly  band  of  warriors, 
led  by  feudal  barons  sprung  up  in  Normandy  ;  and 
Stephen,  Earl  of  Albemarle,  and  Everard  Percy, 
3 


26     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEES. 

Aubrey  De  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  Joceline  Cour- 
tenay,  Conan  de  Montacute,  and  Girard  de  Gourney, 
were  amon2;  the  Norman  barons  whom  Eno-Iand  sent 
forth  to  accompany  the  Conqueror's  heir. 

The  pilgrim  princes  appointed  Constantinople  as  a 
rendezvous,  and  agreed  to  set  out  at  different  dates  and 
to  pursue  different  routes.  Indeed  so  numerous  were 
those  who  took  the  cross,  that,  marching  in  one  army, 
they  would  have  exhausted  the  countries  through 
which  they  had  to  pass.  They  therefore  commenced 
their  expedition  eastward  in  four  divisions,  all  grandly 
arrayed.  Every  warrior  wore  a  casque  and  a  hauberk 
of  chain  mail.  The  infantry  carried  long  shields,  the 
cavalry  round  bucklers  for  their  defence,  and  a  goodly 
supply  of  swords,  lances,  poinards,  axes,  maces,  bows, 
slings,  and  cross  bows,  with  which  to  pursue  the  work 
of  carnafTe  and  destruction. 

It  would  appear,  however,  that  the  crusaders  had 
no  adequate  notion  of  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of 
the  way.  Knights  and  nobles,  grooms  and  squires, 
were  equally  unaware  of  the  obstacles  to  be  encoun- 
tered. Many  of  the  warriors  took  with  them  their 
wives  and  children,  and  rode  along  with  bugles  at 
their  girdles,  hawks  on  their  wrists,  and  hounds  running 
by  their  side.  They  seem  to  have  considered  the 
crusade  as  a  sort  of  pleasant  excursion,  and  to  have 
anticipated  reaching  the  Holy  City  if  not  without 
fighting  battles,  at  least  without  storming  fortresses. 


THE    PEASANT-PILGRIMS.  27 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE    PEASAXT-PILGEIMS. 


While  the  princes  who  had  assumed  the  cross  were 
pawning  their  castles  and  ahenating  their  domains,  a 
muhitude,  under  the  influence  of  an  enthusiasm  that 
would  brook  no  delay,  insisted  on  setting  forth  at  once 
for  the  Holy  Land. 

Nor  is  it  wonderful  that  impatience  should  have 
been  manifested.  It  appears  that  every  serf  who  took 
the  cross,  shook  off  his  collar  and  became  a  freeman  ; 
and  the  peasant  of  France  must  have  hailed  any  oppor- 
tunity of  exchanging  a  cabin  associated  in  his  mind 
with  the  cruelty  of  man,  for  places  associated  in  his 
mind  with  the  mercy  of  God.  Religion  was  to  him 
everything.  Princes  and  nobles  had  castles,  where 
minstrels  and  jongleurs  ministered  to  their  diversion, 
where  retainers  saddled  horses  and  unleashed  hounds 
for  their  recreation,  and  where  chaplains  read  ro- 
mances of  chivalry  for  their  amusement.  But  save 
the  sentiments  and  hopes  which  he  owed  to  the  church, 
the  peasant  had  no  consolation  in  his  misery ;  and 
when  told, that,  by  going  to  a  land  which  the  Pope 
described  as  "  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,"  he  would 
secure  pardon  without  penance  in  this  world,  and  hap- 
piness without  purgatory  in  the  next,  he  naturally  be- 


28     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

came  an  enthusiast,  witli    the    single   idea  of  accom- 
plishing his  pilgrimage. 

Moreover,  the  very  name  of  Palestine  exercised  a 
magical  influence  on  the  men  of  the  eleventh  century. 
At  the  mention  of  the  Holy  Land,  their  imaginations 
conjured  up  the  most  picturesque  scenery :  graceful 
palms  rustling  in  the  air  ;  fig-trees  overhanging  the 
paths  ;  gardens  ^vith  jasmines,  pomegranates,  golden  cit- 
rons, mantling  vines,  and  odoriferous  flowers  ;  a  sandy 
soil,  glowing  under  a  hlue  sky ;  oriental  women  veiled 
in  white  and  grouped  around  fountains  ;  long  caravans 
of  camels  bearing  priceless  merchandise ;  Saracenic 
castles ;  cities  of  which  the  names  were  recorded  in 
tliat  sacred  book,  which  the  poorest  knew  by  picture  ; 
Sharon,  famous  for  roses  without  thorns  :  Lebanon, 
celebrated  for  cedars  and  vines ;  and  Carmel,  with  its 
solitary  convent,  and  its  thyme-covered  summit, 
haunted  by  the  wild  boar  and  the  eagle.  Such  were 
the  objects  picturesquely  described  by  pilgrims,  which 
touched  the  imagination  and  excited  the  curiosity  of 
our  ancestors. 

The  French  people  were  first  in  motion.  No  feeling 
of  prudence,  indeed,  interfered  with  their  ardor. 
Leaving  their  fields  and  towns,  agricultural  serfs 
and  petty  traders,  displayed  eagerness  to  reach  the 
Holy  City.  Without  considering  distance  or  danger, 
many  of  the  peasant-pilgrims  took  their  wives  and 
children  to  share  their  perils  ;  and  if  any  rational 
individual  interfered  with  a  word  of  salutar.y  warning, 
their  answer  was  ready  :  "  He  who  will  not  take  up 
his  cross  and  come  with  me,"  bawled  these  enthusiasts, 
"  is  not  worthy  of  me." 


THE    rEASAXT-PIIiGRIMS.  29 

But  while  many  assumed  the  cross  with  the  idea 
of  securing  eternal  salvation,  numbers  did  so  from 
motives  the  reverse  of  laudable.  Many  a  thief  and 
cut-throat,  whose  life  had  been  a  defiance  of  God  and 
man,  appeared  to  take  part  in  this  armed  pilgrimage ; 
and  the  most  immoral  and  irreligious  characters  in 
Europe  decked  their  shoulders  with  a  badge  sym- 
bolizing everything  pure  and  lioly.  Mingled  with 
pious  peasants  and  decent  traders,  were  men  who  had 
long  defied  every  law  ;  and,  mingling  with  wives  of 
peasant  and  trader,  were  women  who  had  long  dis- 
carded all  modesty. 

From  the  banks  of  the  Maes  and  the  Moselle,  and 
from  the  provinces  of  Burgundy  and  Champagne,  the 
peasant-pilgrims,  arrayed  in  every  variety  of  costume 
and  armed  with  every  variety  of  weapon,  crowded 
confusedly  towards  the  point  of  rendezvous.  A  sight 
of  the  camp  which  they  formed,  would  have  daunted 
the  most  skilful  war-chief.  Eighty  thousand  men  of 
different  races,  with  their  wives  and  daughters,  with 
infants  taken  from  the  cradle,  and  grandsires  on  the 
verge  of  the  grave,  and  a  considerable  number  of  sick 
and  dying  —  such  was  the  multitude  that  now  de- 
manded to  be  led  to  Jerusalem,  and  raised  the  shout 
of  "  God  wills  it." 

But  the  task  of  leading  them  was  clearly  one  from 
which  Alexander  the  Great  or  Julius  Cajsar  might 
have  shrunk.  A  chief,  however,  was  wanted  ;  and 
the  multitude  did  not  hesitate  in  their  choice.  With 
one  voice  they  nominated  Peier  the  Hermit,  and  defying 
the  difficulties  in  prospect,  the  apostle  of  the  crusade 
accepted  the  post  of  general.  Ere  long,  Peter  had 
3* 


30     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

reason  to  rue  the  day  when  he  was  rash  enough  to 
make  hhiiself  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  an  un- 
disciplined host. 

A  leader  having  been  found,  the  mob  was  arranged 
in  two  divisions.  A  knight  celebrated  as  Walter  the 
Penniless  was  appointed  to  lead  the  van.  Peter,  under 
the  delusion  that  he  could  control  men  whom  he  had 
persuaded  to  take  up  arms,  assumed  without  hesitation 

/e  command  of  the  main  body. 
Every  arrangement  was  soon  made  ;  and  Walter 
the  Penniless,  having  on  the  8th  of  March,  1096, 
begun  his  march,  traversed  without  annoyance  the 
French  territories,  and  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  The 
Germans,  though  not  yet  roused  to  zeal,  were  the 
reverse  of  hostile  to  the  expedition.  Some,  indeed, 
said,  "  These  Frenchmen  are  fools  for  their  pains  ;  " 
but  others  expressed  sympathy  with  the  Christian 
ardor  displayed. 

On  leaving  the  German  territory,  however,  Walter 
had  to  deal  with  nations  from  whom  little  sympathy 
could  be  expected.  It  was  necessary,  in  fact,  to  cross 
a  countiy  inhabited  by  Hungarians  and  Bulgarians, 
neither  of  whom  were  unlikely  to  manifest  antipathy. 
Both  nations  had  lately  embraced  Christianity.  But 
the  Hungarians  and  Bulgarians  had  none  of  that  zeal 
which  is  supposed  to  animate  recent  converts,  and 
they  appear  to  have  regarded  the  crusade  with  indif- 
ference, and  the  crusaders  with  hatred. 

The  position  of  Walter  was  difficult  ;  but  the  pen- 
niless knight,  finding  that  the  Hungarians  treated  the 
pilgrims  as  enemies,  exerted  himself  to  prevent  re- 
taliation.    Success  attended  his  efforts,  and  his  soldiers 


THE    PEASAXT-PILGRIMS.  31 


left  the  territories  of  the  IIun<Tarians  without  a  hlow 
having  been  exchanged. 

So  far  the  expedition  was  characterized  by  order 
and  decency.  It  happened  however,  that  the  modera- 
tion of  Walter  was  not  relished ;  and  on  entering 
Bulgaria,  the  crusaders  resolved  to  set  his  authority 
at  defiance.  Want  rendered  them  desperate,  and  they 
broke  from  restraint.  Spreading  themselves  over  the 
country,  they  put  men  to  the  sword,  burned  houses, 
and  plundered  sheep-folds.  No  prudential  considera- 
tions restrained  their  ferocity. 

Such  conduct  could  hardly  produce  other  than  dis- 
astrous results  ;  and  the  desperadoes  soon  found  that 
outrages  of  the  kind  were  not  to  be  perpetrated  with 
impunity.  Now,  in  fact,  began  the  misfortunes  of  the 
crusade.  No  sooner  did  rumors  of  sheep  stolen, 
houses  burned,  and  men  killed,  spread  over  the  country, 
than  a  cry  for  vengeance  rose  loud  and  high.  Rushing 
to  arms,  the  Bulgarians  fell  on  the  soldiers  of  the 
cross,  and  slaughtered  them  without  mercy.  Nothing 
worthy  of  the  name  of  resistance  appears  to  have  been 
ofTercd.  Some  of  the  crusaders  sought  refuge  in  a 
church,  and  the  others  fled  fast  from  their  assailants. 
The  Bulgarians  hastening  to  the  church,  burned  the 
sacred  edifice  and  those  who  had  taken  refuge  within 
its  walls  ;  while  Walter,  gathering  in  the  fughives, 
secured  them  by  a  hasty  and  skilful  march  from  the 
vengeance  they  had  provoked. 

After  this  disaster,  Walter  pursued  his  way  through 
the  forests  of  Bulgaria.  But  famine  dogged  the 
steps  of  his  followers.  Finding  that  matters  were 
reaching  a  dangerous  stage,  the  pilgrim  warrior   ap- 


32  TUE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CllUSADEKS. 

peared  before  Nissa,  a  city  on  the  river  Moravia,  and 
implored  the  governor,  in  the  name  of  Christianity,  to 
save  the  soldiers  of  the  cross  from  dying  of  hunger. 
Touched  with  pity,  the  governor  of  Nissa  furnished 
food  and  raiment ;  and  the  crusaders  passing  quickly 
through  Thrace,  arrived,  after  weeks  of  fatigue,  be- 
fore the  gates  of  Constantinople. 

While  Walter  the  Penniless  was  leading  the  van  of 
the  pilgrim  army  toward  Constantinople,  Peter  the 
Hermit  was  in  motion.  Enveloped  in  his  woollen 
mantle,  mounted  on  his  mule,  and  attended  by  sixty 
thousand  pedestrians,  he  passed  through  Germany. 
Everything  went  pleasantly  enough  ;  for,  the  evil  pas- 
sions of  the  mob  being  still  under  restraint,  the  elements 
of  disturbance  had  not  yet  made  themselves  felt.  Men 
sang  psalms  ;  women  gossipped  about  every  novelty 
that  presented  itself;  and  children,  whenever  a  town 
or  castle  came  in  sight,  asked  with  curiosity,  "  Is  this 
Jerusalem  ?  " 

But  a  change  was  at  hand.  On  reaching  Hungary, 
Peter  was  informed  of  the  disasters  of  his  vanguard, 
and,  betrayed  into  a  threat  of  vengeance.  Even  after 
this,  the  Hermit  might  have  reasoned  himself  mto 
calmness ;  but  unfortunately,  on  reaching  Semlin,  he 
perceived  the  bodies  of  several  crusaders  hangmgfrom 
the  walls.  At  this  sight  Peter  gave  way  to  frenzy  ; 
and,  a  craving  for  vengeance  taking  possession  of  his 
soul,  he  resolved  to  attack  the  city. 

The  crusaders  were  both  ready  and  willing.  In- 
deed, by  this  time,  they  wanted  somethmg  new  in  the 
way  of  excitement,  and  with  gladness  received  the 
order    to    take    Semlin.     Seizing    their    weapons   and 


THE    PEASANT-riLGKlMS.  33 

sounding  their  trumpets,  they  rushed  to  the  assault. 
No  savage  valor  could  resist  such  enthusiasm ;  and 
the  Bulgarians,  giving  way,  fled  in  terror.  Peter 
M'ould  probably  have  been  satisfied  with  this  triumph  ; 
but  the  fury  of  the  mob  once  let  loose  could  not  be 
restrained.  With  clamor  and  threats  they  pursued  the 
Bulgarians,  sword  in  hand,  and  never  ceased  from  the 
slaughter  till  four  thousand  men  had  fallen. 

The  bodies  of  the  slain,  carried  by  the  river  to 
Belgrade,  gave  the  inhabitants  of  the  Bulgarian  capital 
an  idea  of  the  carnage,  and  the  crusaders  had  soon 
reason  to  regret  their  rashness.  While  they  were  at 
Semlin,  and  celebrating  their  victory,  an  army,  as- 
sembled by  the  King  of  Flungary,  suddenly  approached 
the  city.  Alarm  immediately  appeared  on  every  face. 
The  crusaders  were,  in  fact,  in  no  condition  to  en- 
counter a  disciplined  host  ;  and  Peter  not  unaware  of 
the  hopelessness  of  trying  conclusions,  gave  orders  for 
departure,  passed  the  Moravia,  and  gamed  the  Bulga- 
rian territories. 

The  peasant-pilgrims  now  found  their  progress  un- 
opposed. Not  a  Bulgarian  was  to  be  seen,  cities  and 
villages  were  alike  deserted.  This  produced  serious 
inconveniences.  Neither  guides  nor  provisions  were 
to  be  obtained  ;  and  with  no  small  difficulty  Peter  and 
his  pedestrians  found  their  way  to  Nissa. 

Nissa  was  the  city  where  Walter  the  Penniless 
had  found  relief  Such  being  the  case,  the  inhabitants 
doubtless  considered  that  from  the  pauper  Imight's 
friends  they  were  entitled  to  forbearance.  The  aspect 
of  Peter's  army,  however,  was  not  such  as  to  inspire 
confidence,  and  the  Bulgarians,  on  viewing  the  motley 


84  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEUS. 

multitude  from  their  Avails,  became  somewhat  ap- 
pi-ehensive.  But  Nissa  was  strongly  fortified,  and 
the  crusaders  did  not  entertain  the  idea  of  attacking  it 
rashly. 

At  first,  both  parties  appeared  anxious  to  avoid 
giving  offence.  The  pilgrims  asked  for  provisions, 
with  an  intimation  that  they  intended  to  pursue  their 
journey.  The  Bulgarians  supplied  the  provisions  with 
a  desire  that  they  should  be  freed  from  the  presence  of 
their  guests.  Their  intercourse,  so  far,  was  amicable  ; 
but  unluckily,  at  this  point,  some  of  Peter's  men 
imprudently  set  fire  to  mills  on  the  river  ;  and  at 
sight  of  the  flames,  the  citizens  of  Nissa  rushing  from 
the  ramparts,  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  pilgrim-army, 
and  after  killing  every  one  who  came  in  their  way,  re- 
turned with  a  host  of  prisoners  and  wagon-loads  of 
baggage. 

The  crusaders  beheld  the  retreat  of  the  Bulgarians 
with  shouts  of  indignation,  and  Peter  turned  back  to 
demand  satisfaction.  The  warlike  enthusiasm  of  the 
Hermit,  however,  had  cooled  smce  he  fled  before  the 
king  of  tlungary  ;  and  perhaps  he  retained  sufficient 
tincture  of  the  soldiership  acquired  wliile  riding  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Count  of  Bouillon,  to  know  how  unfit 
his  undisciplined  followers  were  to  encounter  men  ac- 
customed to  war.  In  any  case,  he  expressed  a  wish  to 
negotiate,  and  sent  messengers  to  the  Governor  of 
Nissa,  demanding  restitution  of  the  prisoners  and 
baggage. 

Peter's  ambassadors  proceeded  into  the  city,  and 
had  an  interview  with  the  Governor.  But  that  func- 
tionary  ascribed    their    peaceful    demeanor    to  fear ; 


THE    PEASANT-PILGRIMS.  35 

and,  though  appealed  to  in  the  name  of  Christianity, 
he  gave  no  hope  of  redress. 

"  You  perceive  we  have  taken  the  cross,"  said  the 
ambassadors,  "  and,  as  Christians,  we  appeal  to  you, 
holdinfT  the  same  relimon."  . 

"  Go  back  to  your  general,"  said  the  Governor, 
sternly,  "  and  tell  him  that  I  can  recognize  in  you 
nothing;  but  enemies." 

When  the  ambassadors  returned  to  their  comrades 
and  reported  the  Governor's  answer,  the  crusaders 
loudly  expressed  their  indignation.  Every  face  im- 
mediately flushed,  and  every  blade  glittered  in  the 
sun.  In  vain  Peter  remonstrated.  The  spirit  of  in- 
subordination was  rampant  ;  and,  charging  the  apostle 
of  the  crusade  with  infidelity  to  the  cause,  the  exas- 
perated mob  brandished  their  weapons,  advanced  to 
the  city,  and  attempted  to  scale  the  walls.  Repulsed 
by  the  Bulgarians,  they  redoubled  their  efforts,  and, 
in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  Peter  and  his  knights, 
mingled  confusedly  with  their  foes.  For  a  time,  the 
struggle  was  savagely  maintained  on  both  sides.  But 
at  length  the  crusaders  gave  way.  Their  rout  was 
complete  ;  and  women,  children,  and  equipages  fell 
into  the  hands  of  their  conquerors. 

After  witnessing  the  dispersion  of  his  army,  Peter 
retired  to  a  hill  near  Nissa,  where  he  passed  the 
summer  night  deploring  his  defeat  and  digesting 
his  mortification.  Li  the  meantime,  however,  his 
trumpets  were  continually  sounded,  and  gradually 
thousands  of  the  fugitives  returned  to  his  standard. 
With  the  wreck  of  his  army,  Peter  marched  through 
Thrace  ;    and,    rendered   docile  by    disaster,    his    fbl- 


3G  THE    CPtUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

lowers  pursued  their  way  without  exposing  themselves 
to  further  mishaps. 

At  length,  in  rags  and  poverty,  the  peasant-pilgrims 
carrying  palms  in  their  hands,  appeared  at  Constan- 
tinople ;  and  met  with  a  hospitable  reception  from 
Alexis  Commenus.  The  Emperor  mvited  Peter  to  the 
palace,  extolled  his  zeal,  loaded  him  with  presents, 
and  distributed  money  and  provisions  among  his  fol- 
lowers. At  the  same  time,  he  recommended  Peter 
to  defer  the  holy  war  till  the  arrival  of  the  princes  and 
barons  who  had  assumed  the  cross. 

The  Emperor  had  early  reason  to  repent  of  his 
advice.  No  sooner  were  the.  crusaders  clothed  and 
fed,  than  they  began  to  cast  their  eyes  wistfully  on 
the  wealth  of  Constantinople.  In  vain  did  Peter 
exert  himself  to  keep  their  passions  in  check.  The 
thieves  and  outlaws  who  had  joined  the  crusade, 
now  exercised  far  more  influence  than  the  Hermit. 
At  length  they  began  to  plunder  the  houses  and 
churches  in  the  suburbs ;  and  Alexis,  eager  to  get 
rid  of  such  visitors,  hastened  their  departure  and 
furnished  vessels  to  convey  them  across  the  Bos- 
phorus. 


WALTER    THE    PENNILESS.  37 


CHAPTER   VI. 


WALTER    THE    PENNILESS. 


Walter  the  Penniless  was  a  gentleman  by  birth, 
and  a  Burgundian  by  nation.  In  other  days,  he  had 
won  golden  spurs  and  inherited  a  fortune.  But, 
whatever  had  become  of  the  spurs,  Walter's  property 
had  vanished,  and  he  possessed  nothing  save  his  horse, 
his  armor,  and  a  degree  of  military  skill,  which,  had 
he  been  at  the  head  of  fighting  men,  would  have  made 
him  a  formidable  warrior.  Having  on  his  arrival 
before  Constantinople  encamped  under  the  walls, 
Walter  joined  Peter  the  Hermit,  crossed  the  Bos- 
phorus,  and  exerted  his  energy  to  keep  the  peasant- 
pilgrims  in  order. 

On  reaching  Asia,  the  apostle  of  the  crusade  found 
himself  in  command  of  a  hundred  thousand  men ; 
for  at  Constantinople,  besides  being  joined  by  Walter, 
he  had  been  reinforced  by  large  bodies  of  Germans 
and  Italians.  All  these  were  as  enthusiastic  and  re- 
fractory as  the  crusaders  from  France,  and  never 
had  men  to  perform  a  more  difficult  duty  than  had 
devolved  upon  the  Hermit  and  the  Knight.  Their 
united  efforts  failed  to  preserve  anytliing  like  disci- 
pline ;  and  while  on  the  plains  bordering  the  gulf  of 
4 


38     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

Nicomedia,  their  camp   became  the   scene   of  discord 
and  disorder. 

At  length  the  crusaders  of  the  Germany  and  Italian 
States  came  to  dacsjers'  drawn  with  those  from  France 
about  plunder.  Not  relishing  the  superiority  assumed 
by  the  boastful  Frenchmen,  the  Germans  and  Italians 
elected  a  leader,  and,  leaving  the  camp,  advanced 
towards  Nice.  Arriving  before  a  fort,  they  com- 
menced an  assault  ;  and,  entering,  sword  in  hand, 
slaufrhtered  the  garrison.  Though  without  means  of 
subsistence  or  defence,  they  boldly  took  possession, 
and  displayed  their  standard.  Their  audacity  was  not, 
of  course,  long  left  unpunished.  A  Turkish  army  soon 
appeared  ;  and  the  Germans  and  Italians,  unprepared 
for  resistance,  fell  victims  to  their  temerity. 

When  news  of  this  disaster  reached  the  camp  of 
the  crusaders,  the  French,  forgetting  their  feud,  vowed 
to  be  the  avengers  of  the  Germans  and  Itahans,  and 
gave  way  to  extraordinary  excitement.  Peter  had 
repaired  in  disgust  to  Constantinople  ;  but  Walter  did 
all  he  could  to  prevent  fatal  consequences. 

"  The  Germans  and  Italians  are  unworthy  of  the 
sacrifice  you  would  make,"  said  the  penniless  Knight 
to  those  who  had  constituted  themselves  ringleaders  of 
the  mob.  "  These  men  have  fallen  victims  to  their 
own  imprudence  ;  and  it  is  our  duty  to  avoid  their 
example." 

"That,"  cried  the  ringleaders  in  chorus,  "is  the 
language  of  a  man  who  lacks  courage." 

"  I  tell  you,"  answered  Walter,  with  a  gesture  of 
indignation,  "  that  the  enterprise  you  propose  prom- 
ises nothing  but  ruin.     But  have  your  own  way.     I 


■WALTER    THE    PENNILESS.  89 

cannot    sanction    your    folly,  but    1    will    share    your 
fate." 

"  God  wills  it,"  cried  the  ringleaders,  as  they 
rushed  from  the  tent  and  roused  the  mob  to  arms. 

The  man  who  at  this  period  figured  as  Sultan  of 
Nice  was  not  one  whom  the  crusaders,  if  they  had 
been  discreet  would  have  rashly  defied.  Reared  in 
the  midst  of  civil  strife,  and  accustomed  in  his  youth 
to  adversity,  he  was  dauntless  m  defeat  and  calm  in 
victory.  His  foes  named  him  with  respect  ;  and  his 
friends,  with  pride,  surnamed  him  "  The  Lion."  On 
this  occasion,  he  was  under  no  serious  apprehension ; 
for  he  was  aware  of  the  imprudence  of  the  pilgrims, 
and  quite  prepared  to  avail  himself  of  its  result. 

Little  dreaming  of  the  reception  with  which  they 
were  to  meet,  the  crusaders  placed  themselves  in 
marching  order  ;  and  Walter  the  Penniless,  groaning 
in  spirit,  and  leaving  the  women  and  children,  and  old 
men  in  the  camp,  led  the  van  towards  Nice.  For  a 
time  he  pursued  his  way  without  interruption.  Sud- 
denly, however,  horns  and  drums  heralded  an  attack  ; 
Saracens,  with  white  turbans,  green  caftans,  and  long 
spears  came  in  sight  ;  and,  on  reaching  a  plain  at  the 
base  of  a  mountain,  the  peasant-pilgrims  found  them- 
selves face  to  face  with  countless  foes.  Walter  halted, 
formed  his  men,  and  did  all  that  a  brave  and  sagacious 
leader  could  do  under  such  circumstances  ;  but  his 
skill  was  exerted  in  vain.  Surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
superior  numbers,  and  shrinking  from  the  peril  they 
had  defied,  the  crusaders  lost  heart  and  energy.  At 
first,  indeed,  the  conflict  was  fierce,  and  the  carnage 
fearful.     But  ere  long  every  hope  expired  ;  and,  with 


4(5 


THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


Christian  blood  flowing  around  him  like  water,  Walter 
fell  in  the  midst  of  his  foes,  transfixed  with  arrows 
and  covered  with  wounds. 

Nor  did  the  camp  where  the  women  and  children 
had  been  left  long  escape.  While  the  priests  were 
performing  mass,  the  victorious  Turks  suddenly  ap- 
peared ;  and  the  unfortunate  women  and  children  were 
either  put  to  death  or  carried  into  captivity.  No  one, 
however,  escaped  to  tell  the  tale  of  horror. 

It  was  only  by  accident  that  Christendom  learned 
the  catastrophe  that  had  befallen  the  wreck  of  the 
first  army  of  the  cross.  A  soldier  escaping  to  Con- 
stantinople carried  to  Peter  the  Hermit  tidings  of  the 
fate  of  his  comrades  ;  and  on  the  plain  where  the 
Sultan  of  Nice  fought  with  Walter  the  Penniless,  a 
quantity  of  human  bones  heaped  confusedly  together, 
remained  a  melancholy  monument  of  the  carnage  of 
the  peasant-pilgrims. 


Satan's  soldiers  ix  cierist's  livery.        41 


CHAPTER   YIL 

SA.TAIf's    soldiers    IX    CHRISt's    LIYERY. 

When  Walter  tho  Penniless  was  vainly  endeavoring 
to  save  the  peasant-pilgrims  from  ruin,  a  goat  and  a 
goose  left  Germany  at  the  head  of  many  thousand 
men. 

This  mob  of  crusaders  described  as  "  a  wicked  rout 
of  people,  who  served  the  devil  under  Christ's  livery," 
appears  to  have  been  composed  of  the  ofF-scourings  of 
society.  Notorious  pads,  cut-throats,  and  malefactors 
of  every  description,  incapable  of  leading  peaceful 
lives,  and  eager  to  turn  their  terrible  talents  to  the 
most  profitable  account,  took  the  oath  to  rescue  the 
Holy  Sepulchre ;  and  being  informed  that  the  fact  of 
bearing  the  cross  would  ensure  pardon  for  sins,  and 
concluding  that  they  might,  while  bearing  the  sacred 
badge,  commit  crimes  with  impunity,  they  assembled 
in  great  force  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine. 

But  unfortunately  for  these  crusaders,  everybody 
knew  them  to  be  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  ;  and  no 
captain  would  risk  his  reputation  by  assuming  the 
functions  of  leader.  In  these  circumstances,  they 
placed  a  goat  and  a   goose   at  their  head,  and,  under 


42     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

tlie  influence  of  some  gross  superstition,  ascribed  to 
these  animals  divine  attributes. 

Under  the  auspices  of  the  goat  and  goose  figured  a 
priest  named  Volkmar,  and  a  count  named  Emicio,  "  a 
tyrant-prince  near  the  Rhine,"  who  having  in  youth 
indulged  in  debauchery,  believed  he  might  atone  for 
his  sins  by  devoting  middle  age  to  fanaticism.  The 
priest  and  the  count,  who  naturally  exercised  consid- 
erable influence  over  their  comrades,  declared  that  it 
was  impolitic  to  go  in  search  of  Saracens  in  Asia,  till 
they  had  dealt  with  the  Jews  in  Europe  ;  and  the  mob 
immediately  intimated  readiness  to  commence  a  general 
massacre. 

The  Jews  were  then  odious  to  Christendom  ;  and,  it 
must  be  confessed,  that  they  did  much  to  merit  hatred. 
Their  substance  was  considerable,  and  their  avarice 
intense.  At  an  early  period  they  had  come  to  Europe, 
formed  a  colony  at  Prague,  established  themselves  as 
slave-dealers,  and  by  the  inhuman  traffic  acquired 
immense  wealth,  which  enabled  them  daily  to  grind 
the  faces  of  the  poor.  Nearly  all  the  gold  of  Europe 
had  gradually  found  its  way  into  their  hands ;  and,  in 
the  dearth  of  the  circulating  medium,  they  extorted 
the  most  exorbitant  interest.  Of  course  as  usurers 
they  transacted  much  business,  and  possessed  much 
power.  It  was  not  merely  the  inmates  of  castles  and 
monasteries  who  were  their  debtors.  While  the  baron 
pledged  his  armor  and  the  abbot  his  plate,  the  trader 
pawned  his  wares,  the  husbandman  his  ploughshare, 
and  the  craftsman  his  tools.  All  these  men  were  at 
the  mercy  of  the  Jews  ;  and  the  mercy  of  a  Jew  was 
generally,  in  the  long-run,  found  to  be  infinitely  worse 
than  the  cruelty  of  a  Christian. 


Satan's  soldiers  in  Christ's  liyery.       43 

These  circumstances  would  of  themselves  have 
rendered  the  Jew  an  object  of  fear  and  hatred  wherc- 
ever  he  appeared  —  with  his  sensual  lip,  his  hook 
nose,  his  peculiar  features,  his  high  square  yellow 
cap  and  his  russet  gaberdine.  But  there  were  other 
and  still  stronger  reasons  for  the  detestation  with 
which  the  multitude  re2;arded  the  Hebrew  race. 
Almost  every  Jew  was  understood,  openly  or  secretly, 
to  insult  the  Christian  faith.  It  was  known  that  one 
Jew  had  defaced  an  image  of  the  Virgin  ;  that  others 
had  crucified  a  boy  in  mockery  of  the  Saviour ;  and 
that  a  third  had  stabbed  the  host.  At  the  time 
of  the  first  crusade,  all  these  things  were  recalled  to 
memory  ;  for  the  Jews  were  strongly  suspected  of 
sympathising  with  the  Saracens  ;  of  showing  their 
sympathy  by  furnishing  arms  to  carry  on  war ;  of 
insulting  by  their  railleries,  the  enthusiasm  then  pre- 
vailing in  Christendom  ;  and  of  laughing  at  the  zeal 
that  prompted  Christians  to  "  take  the  stafT  and  sandal, 
in  superstitious  penance,  and  walk  afoot  to  visit  the 
graves  of  dead  men." 

No  sooner,  therefore,  did  the  Priest  and  the  Count 
suggest  the  propriety  of  attacking  the  Jews,  than  the 
crusaders  led  by  the  goat  and  the  goose,  spreading 
themselves  through  the  cities  on  the  Rhine  and  the 
Moselle,  killed  every  Hebrew  with  whom  they  met. 
Neither  age  nor  sex  was  spared.  Helpless  women 
and  innocent  children  perished  with  their  husbands 
and  fathers.  Escape  appeared  impossible  ;  and  those 
Jews  who  did  not  at  once  fall  victims  gave  way  to 
despair.  Some  shut  themselves  up  in  their  houses 
and   perished  amid   the   flames ;    and  others,  carrying 


44     THE  CUUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

their  treasures  with  them,  sought  a  termination  to  their 
miseries  beneath  the  waters  of  the  Rhine. 

In  the  midst  of  this  fearful  carnage,  the  Jews 
found  protection  from  the  ministers  of  tliat  religion 
which  they  were  suspected  of  insuhing.  Prelate  after 
prelate  raised  his  voice  loudly,  in  the  name  of  human- 
ity, against  the  outrages  that  were  being  perpetrated. 
Their  voices  might  not,  under  the  circumstances,  have 
been  listened  to,  but  their  palaces  were  open  to  the 
afflicted  Hebrews  ;  and,  under  the  protection  of  the 
crosier,  the  enemies  of  Christ  found  an  asylum  from 
the  fury  of  their  persecutors. 

At  length  the  storm  passed  over.  Satiated  with 
blood,  loaded  with  booty,  and  elate  with  pride,  the 
crusaders  commenced  their  march  eastward.  Terror 
preceded  them  wherever  they  went ;  and  the  approach 
of  the  goat  and  goose  was  sufficient  to  make  people 
fly  from  town  and  hamlet.  Without  regret  for  the 
past,  and  without  apprehension  for  the  future,  they 
moved  towards  Hungary ;  and  ere  long  appeared  be- 
fore Altenburg-Owar,  a  town  situated  on  the  Danube, 
strongly  fortified  and  defended  by  marshes. 

On  reaching  Altenburg-Ovvar,  the  Priest  and  the 
Count  demanded  a  supply  of  provisions  ;  but  the  in- 
habitants, in  alarm,  closed  their  gates  and  declined  to 
comply.  Indignant  at  what  they  deemed  disrespect, 
the  crusaders  vowed  to  treat  the  Flungarians  as  they 
had  treated  the  Hebrews,  and  prepared  to  execute 
their  threat.  Having  cut  down  a  forest,  and  con- 
structed a  causeway  which  enabled  them  to  reach  the 
walls  of  the  town,  they  reared  ladders  against  the 
parapets  and  commenced  the  siege.     The   energy  of 


Satan's  soldiers  in  Christ's  livery.       45 

the  citizens,  however,  was  doubled  by  despair  ;  and, 
knowing  wliat  would  be  the  consequence  of  surren- 
dering, they  made  a  vigorous  defence.  The  position 
of  the  besiegers  soon  became  tlie  reverse  of  pleasant ; 
for  arrows  and  darts  and  stones,  and  gallons  of  boiling 
oil  were  unceasingly  discharged  from  the  ramparts, 
and  the  citizens  intimated  in  a  manner  not  to  be  mis- 
taken, their  determination  to  resist  to  death. 

The  crusaders,  however,  were  not  to  be  daunted. 
Shouting  and  swearing,  they  ])ressed  the  siege  and 
battered  the  walls.  Indeed,  at  one  time,  they  had 
every  hope  of  entering  Altenburg-Owar  in  triumph. 
But  suddenly  a  fearful  change  occurred.  Part  of  the 
towers  and  parapets  gave  way ;  the  ladders  fell  with 
a  crash,  and  thousands  of  the  besiegers  were  crushed 
and  mann-led  at  the  foot  of  the  walls. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  fortunate  for  the 
Hungarians.  The  noise,  the  crash,  the  cries  of  the 
wounded,  and  groans  of  the  dying,  created  a  panic 
among  the  crusaders,  and  led  to  their  instantly  aban- 
doninjT  the  siece.  At  the  same  time  the  Hungarians 
sallied  from  the  gates,  rushed  upon  their  enemies, 
and  put  them  to  the  rout.  Scarcely  a  crusader  escaped 
to  tell  the  fate  of  his  comrades.  ]\Iany  fell  by  the 
sword  ;  many  perished  in  the  marshes  ;  and  so  many, 
after  being  wounded,  were  drowned  in  the  river,  that 
corpses,  in  countless  numbers,  floated  over  waters  red 
with  gore. 

While  one  band  of  the  German  pilgrims,  whose 
memory  is  associated  with  the  goat  and  the  goose, 
were  destroyed  by  the  Hungarians,  another  band 
appeared  to  fill  their  place.     This  body,  consisting  of 


46 


THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


twenty  thousand  men,  proved  hardly  less  unruly  than 
their  countrymen,  and  astonished  the  Hungarians  by 
their  frightful  excesses.  Arriving  about  the  end  of 
summer,  they  gave  themselves  up  to  the  most  brutal 
debauchery.  Outrage  after  outrage  was  recklessly 
perpetrated  ;  and  day  after  day  tidings  went  to  the 
King  of  Hungary  of  villages  plundered,  women  vio- 
lated, and  men  murdered. 

AVhile  these  Germans  were  losins;  all  thoughts  of 
the  Holy  Land,  the  King  of  Hungary  sent  an  army  to 
avenge  the  injuries  which  his  subjects  had  sustained  ; 
and  the  crusaders  learned  that  enemies  were  ap- 
proaching. Housing  themselves  from  the  brutal  in- 
temperance in  which  they  had  passed  weeks,  the 
Germans  seized  their  weapons  to  resist.  But  the 
leader  of  the  Hungarians,  far  from  exhibiting  hos- 
tility, presented  himself  to  the  Germans  in  the  most 
amicable  manner,  declared  his  anxiety  to  settle  matters 
quietly,  and  only  requested  that  they  would,  to  faciU- 
tate  negotiations,  lay  down  their  arms. 

No  suspicion  of  foul  play  appears  to  have  crossed 
the  minds  of  the  crusaders.  Perhaps  they  had  been 
indulging  in  debauchery  to  such  a  degree,  that  they 
could  hardly  have  been  in  full  possession  of  their 
faculties.  In  any  case  they  consented  to  lay  aside 
their  weapons  ;  and  scarcely  had  they  done  so,  when 
at  a  signal  from  the  Hungarian  chief,  the  soldiers 
sprung  into  the  camp.  The  Germans  amazed,  shed 
tears,  and  pointed  to  the  badge  on  their  shoulder. 
But  the  chief  was  deaf  to  cries  for  mercy.  Every 
crusader  was  sent  to  his  account  ;  and  the  Hungarians 
rejoiced  that  their  murdered  countrymen  and  violated 
countrywomen  were  avenged. 


Satan's  soldiehs  ix  Christ's  liveky.      47 

Such  was  the  end  of  those  crusades,  undertaken 
by  the  populace  without  placing  themselves  under 
chiefs  of  skill  and  experience.  From  this  period,  we 
find  the  armed  pilgrims  going  to  the  Holy  Land  under 
the  banner  of  their  natural  leaders  ;  men  with  strong 
hands,  stout  hearts,  and  long  heads.  No  more  expe- 
ditions were  undertaken  by  multitudes  on  their  own 
responsibility,  or  under  the  mysterious  auspices  of  the 
seat  and  the  <2;oose. 


48  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CPvUSADERS. 


CHAPTER     VIII. 


ALEXIS    AND    THE    PILGEIil    PKINCES. 

When  news  reached  Constantinople,  that  the  war- 
riors of  France  were  marching  towards  the  capital  of 
Greece,  on  their  way  to  encounter  the  Saracens,  the 
Emperor  Alexis  began  to  repent  of  having  implored 
their  aid,  and  to  apprehend  that  they  might,  after  the 
example  of  other  auxiliaries,  seize  the  dominions  they 
had  been  invoked  to  save. 

Indeed  the  game  which  Alexis  had  to  play  was 
somewhat  difficult.  The  empire  over  which  he  reigned 
was  corrupt  in  all  its  parts  ;  and  the  crown  which  he 
wore  was  a  crown  of  thorns.  Few  persons  who  put 
on  the  imperial  purple  were  allowed  to  wear  it  long. 
Since  the  time  of  Heraclius,  the  emperors  of  the  East 
had  fared  badly.  Some  had  been  assassinated  in  their 
own  palace  ;  some,  after  being  deprived  of  sight,  had 
been  sent  into  exile ;  and  others,  after  being  mutilated, 
had  been  consigned  to  a  cloister.  Alexis,  formerly 
grand  domestic  of  the  empire,  had  obtained  the  dignity 
after  incarcerating  his  benefactor ;  and  his  position  was 
by  no  means  the  most  enviable.     The  very  first  day 


ALEXIS    AND    THE    PILGRIM    PRINCES.  49 

on  which  fortune  happened  to  frown,  might  witness  his 
downfall ;  for  discord  reigned  in  Constantinople  ;  and 
the  Greeks  were  readier  to  depose  a  sovereign  than  to 
resist  a  foe. 

Moreover,  Alexis  had  a  vague  idea  what  manner  of 
men  were  the  Franks,  and  especially  the  Normans, 
who  were  now  moving  eastward.  He  was  aware  that 
they  regarded  as  an  enemy  every  man  who  possessed 
anything  which  they  coveted ;  and  he  was  not  unaware 
that  some  of  them  were  in  the  habit  of  turning  their 
eyes  covetously  towards  a  certain  rich  city  on  the 
western  shore  of  the  Bosphorus.  hi  the  event  of  the 
crusaders  proving  hostile,  the  Emperor  hardly  had  the 
means  of  resistance.  The  Greeks  had  long  considered 
cunning  more  meritorious  than  courage,  and  contented 
themselves  with  exercising  every  faculty  to  deceive. 
The  Emperor's  subjects  could  not  fight  ;  the  Em- 
peror had  no  military  force  but  mercenaries,  whom 
his  subjects  called  barbarians ;  and  the  idea  of  match- 
ing hireling  soldiers  with  crusaders  led  by  Godfrey 
of  Bouillon,  Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  and  Robert 
Curthose,  was  not  to  be  entertained.  Such  being  his 
circumstances,  Alexis  felt  that  craft,  not  courage, 
must  save  him  from  the  peril  which  he  dreaded. 

While  Alexis  was  forming  his  plans,  and  the  French 

crusaders    were    approaching    his   territories,    Hugh, 

Count    of  Vermandois,  who    had    previously   gone  to 

Rome  and  received  the  banner  of  the  church  from  the 

hands  of  the  Pope,  happened  to  be  wrecked  on  the 

shores  of  the  Epirus.     Trusting  to  make  the   Count, 

who    was    brother    of  King  Philip,   a   hostage   for  the 

good  conduct  of  his  comrades,  Alexis  ordered  that  he 
5 


50  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRITSADERS. 

should  be  brought  as  a  prisoner  to  Constantinople.  As 
no  secret  was  made  of  this  faithless  proceeding,  God- 
frey of  Bouillon,  soon  after  having  landed  at  Philip- 
popoli,  became  aware  of  the  circumstance,  and 
immediately  despatched  messengers  to  demand  the 
Count's  liberation.  The  Emperor,  on  receiving  God- 
frey's message,  returned  an  answer  the  reverse  of 
satisfactory  ;  and  soon  a  crowd  of  Greeks,  flying  to 
the  capital,  brought  information  that  the  crusaders 
were  ravaging  the  country  and  treating  the  inhabitants 
as  enemies.  Terrified  at  the  consequences  of  his 
policy,  Alexis  sent  to  promise  satisfaction  ;  and  God- 
frey, content  with  this  assurance,  marched  quietly  to 
Constantinople. 

Untaught  by  the  lesson  he  had  received,  Alexis  no 
sooner  saw  the  crusaders  at  his  gates,  than  he  con- 
ceived the  great  idea  of  starvins;  them  into  submission. 
With  this  view  he  forbade  the  Greeks  to  supply 
provisions.  The  crusaders,  however,  were  in  a 
position  to  help  themselves  with  impunity ;  and  dis- 
persing through  the  suburbs  and  over  the  countiy, 
they  plundered  palaces  and  villages,  and  brought  to 
the  camp  everything  necessary  for  their  subsistence. 
The  inconvenience  of  such  a  system  was  of  course 
soon  felt  ;  and  it  became  clear  that  a  better  state  of 
feeling  must  be  cultivated.  Gradually  both  parties 
became  reasonable.  After  some  hesitation,  Alexis 
sent  provisions  ;  and,  with  some  reluctance,  the 
crusaders  refrained  from  pillage. 

But  scarcely  had  this  difficulty  been  overcome, 
when  new  disputes  arose.  Between  the  Greeks  and 
the  crusaders,  no  sympathy  could  exist.     Reciprocal 


ALEXIS    AND    THE    PILGRIM    PEIXCES.  51 

contempt  was  daily  manifested.  The  Greeks  regarded 
the  crusaders  as  barbarians ;  and  the  crusaders  taunted 
the  Greeks  with  being  unable  to  fight  their  own  battles. 
Quarrels,  of  course,  were  of  frequent  occurrence. 
On  one  occasion  a  chief  among  the  crusaders  proposed 
to  seize  Constantinople.  On  more  than  one  occasion 
the  Frank  warriors  were  on  the  point  of  conflict  with 
the  Emperor's  mercenaries.  Even  the  leaders  of  the 
crusade  showed  little  inclination  to  restrain  the  soldiers 
of  the  cross  from  chastising  the  insolence  of  the 
Greeks. 

Alexis  now  felt  that  there  was  too  strong  a  proba- 
bility of  the  crusaders'  standard  waving  over  the  walls 
of  Constantinople.  It  was  in  these  circumstances,  that 
the  Emperor  set  his  heart  upon  a  scheme,  which  he 
believed  would  avert  mischief.  This  was  to  obtain 
from  the  chiefs  of  the  crusade  such  an  oath  of  fidelity 
and  obedience,  as  could  not  decently  be  broken.  At 
first  this  object  seemed  unattainable ;  but,  having 
already  extracted  such  an  oath  from  the  Count  of 
Vermandois,  Alexis  did  not  despair  of  success  with 
other  peers  and  princes.  On  hearing  this  proposal, 
the  pilgrims  expressed  nothing  but  indignation.  But 
after  the  Emperor  had  sent  his  son  to  the  crusaders' 
camp  as  a  hostage,  Godfrey,  with  Robert  Curthose, 
and  the  Count  of  Flanders,  and  the  Count  of  Blois, 
yielded.  Raymond  of  Thoulouse  scornfully  refused. 
"  I  have  not,"  exclaimed  the  aged  warrior,  "  come  to 
the  East  to  seek  a  master."  But  Alexis  found  a  way 
of  overcoming  Raymond's  scruples  ;  and  fixed  a  day 
for  the  crusaders  performinjr  their  homatre. 

At  the  appouitcd  time,  Godfrey  and  his  companions 


52  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

proceeded  to  the  imperial  palace,  and  found  that  no 
pains  had  been  spared  to  impress  them  with  a  high 
opinion  of  the  Emperor's  weakli  and  grandeur. 
Seated  on  his  throne  and  surrounded  by  his  court, 
Alexis  received  their  homage,  and  placed  his  empire 
under  their  protection.  Entirely  occupied  with  the 
attempt  to  conceal  his  weakness  by  a  display  of  super- 
ficial magnificence,  Alexis  regaled  his  fancy  with  the 
idea  that  he  was  achieving  a  victory  over  the  French 
princes,  and  did  not  perceive  that  those  who  had  bent 
their  knees  before  his  throne,  felt  a  thorough  contempt 
for  his  power.  While  the  Emperor  was  presenting 
the  crusaders  with  rich  gifts,  a  slight  incident  awoke 
him  from  liis  delusion. 

Among  the  French  nobles  present  at  the  memorable 
ceremony,  was  a  count,  known  as  Robert  of  Paris. 
This  warrior,  whose  name  is  celebrated  in  history  and 
romance,  little  rehshing  the  airs  assumed  by  the  court 
of  Constantinople,  could  not  refrain  from  showing  his 
contempt.  With  a  gesture  of  scorn  for  the  ceremonial 
by  which  he  was  surrounded,  Robert  advanced  to  the 
throne  before  which  the  crusaders  had  bowed,  and, 
disregarding  all  signs,  seated  himself  by  the  Emperor's 
side.  The  Greeks  expressed  intense  horror  at  the 
Count's  defiance  of  etiquette,  and  even  the  Franks 
could  not  help  feeling  the  awkwardness  of  the  scene. 

"  When  you  are  in  a  foreign  country,"  said  one  of 
the  crusaders,  pulling  Count  Robert  by  the  arm,  "  you 
ought  to  respect  its  customs." 

"  Truly  !  "  exclaimed  Robert,  looking  mockingly 
towards  Alexis  ;  "  but  this  is  a  pleasant  clown  who  is 
seated,  while  so  many  noble  captains  are  standing." 


ALEXIS    AND    THE    PILGRIM    miNCES.  53 

"  What  is  your  birth,  and  which  is  your  country  ?  " 
asked  Alexis,  detaining  Robert  of  Paris,  as  the 
crusaders  were  leaving, 

"  I  am  a  Frenchman,"  replied  the  Count,  "  and  of 
the  highest  rank  of  nobles.  And  one  thing  I  know, 
that  in  my  country  there  is  a  place  near  a  church, 
whither  repair  all  who  are  eager  to  signalise  their 
valor.  I  have  often  been  there,  without  anybody 
having  ventured  to  present  himself  before  me." 

"  If  you  waited  there  without  enemies,"  said  Alexis, 
turning  uneasily  from  Count  Robert,  but  taking  no 
notice  of  the  challenge,  "  you  are  now  going  where 
you  are  likely  to  meet  with  plenty." 


5* 


51  THE    CliUSADES    AND    THE    CHUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


BOEMUXD    OF    TARENTUM. 


While  the  warriors  and  nobles  of  France  were 
arming  for  the  Holy  War,  a  Norman  prmce,  known 
to  posterity  as  "  the  Ulysses  of  the  First  Crusade," 
roused  the  zeal  of  the  inhabitants  of  southern  Italy. 

Early  in  the  eleventh  century,  some  pilgrim-knights 
of  Normandy,  having  landed  on  the  southern  coast  of 
Italy,  aided  the  dwellers  in  Salerno  to  repel  an  incur- 
sion of  the  Saracens.  Animated  by  reports  of  their 
countrymen's  valor,  Robert  and  William  Guiscard, 
sons  of  Tancred  of  Hauteville,  a  Norman  gentleman, 
conducted  to  Italy  a  band  of  warriors,  and  effected  a 
series  of  conquests,  which  were  consolidated  into  the 
Idngdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies. 

Boemund,  one  of  the  sons  of  Robert  Guiscard,  was 
hardly  inferior  to  his  father  in  courage  and  talent.  A 
native  of  Italy,  but  Norman  to  the  backbone,  he  early 
displayed,  in  full  perfection,  the  qualities  that  made 
the  Normans  so  formidable.  Brave,  accomplished, 
and  utterly  unscrupulous,  he  fought  with  courage, 
spoke  with  eloquence,  and  acted  without  regard  either 
to  conscience  or  God. 

At  an  early  age,  Boemund  liad  fought  by  his  father's 
side  against  the  Emperor  of  the  East,  and  had  imbibed 


BOEMUND    OF    TAKEXTUxM.  55 

a  notion  that  the  Greek  emph-e  would  one  day  be  the 
prize  of  his  valor  and  genius.  But  fortune  did  not 
prove  quite  favorable  to  such  an  aspiration.  At  his 
father's  death,  the  ambitious  Norman  found  himself 
without  means  to  make  any  great  attempt.  But, 
though  without  lands  or  Uving,  "  Boemund,  son  of 
Guiscard,"  was  still  formidable  ;  and  having  declared 
war  against  his  brother  Roger,  he  succeeded  in  making 
that  prince  yield  the  principality  of  Tarentum. 

For  a  time  Boemund  figured  as  Prince  of  Tarentum. 
But  Tarentum  was  far  too  small  a  place  for  a  Norman 
noble  of  such  aspiring  vein  ;  and  he  perpetually 
watched  for  an  opportunity  of  realising  his  ambilious 
project.  When  he  learned  that  the  princes  of  France 
were  arming  for  the  crusade,  he  congratulated  himself 
on  his  day  having  arrived,  and  with  a  smile  of  ridicule 
at  the  enthusiasm  that  prompted  such  an  expedition, 
considered  how  it  could  be  turned  to  account  in 
advancing  his  fortunes. 

Boemund's  brains,  once  set  to  work,  soon  enabled 
him  to  comprehend  his  position.  Musing  over  the 
matter,  he  decided  that,  at  this  crisis  of  his  career,  it 
was  necessary  to  have  an  army  of  his  own.  This  was 
a  difhculty  ;  for  Tarentum  could  not  furnish  any  large 
body  of  fighting  men.  But  he  soon  formed  a  plan  for 
getting  as  many  soldiers  as  he  wished,  and  immediately 
proceeded  to  put  the  plan  in  execution. 

At   that   time,    Boemund's   brother    was   bcsien;incr 

'  DO 

Amalfi,  a  city  lying  within  the  territories  of  the  Guis- 
cards,  but  refusing  to  acknowledge  their  authority. 
No  expedition  could  have  been  more  favorable  to 
Boemund's  wishes.     Proceeding  to  xVuialli,  the  Prince 


56  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEES. 

of  Tarentum  affected  to  take  gi-eat  interest  in  the 
siege,  and  insinuated  himself  into  the  good  graces  of 
the  soldiers.  Indeed  he  was  precisely  the  man  to  win 
their  respect.  Besides  having  a  strong  arm  and  an 
eloquent  tongue,  he  had  been  gifted  by  nature  with  a 
most  noble  presence.  His  tall  stature,  enabling  him 
to  tower  above  ordinaiy  men,  never  failed  to  impress 
beholders ;  and  his  aquiline  features,  fair  hair,  and  blue 
eyes,  at  once  marked  him  as  a  genuine  descendant  of 
those  valiant  Northmen,  who,  with  Roll  the  Ganger, 
sailed  up  the  Seine  and  seized  on  Neustria. 

After  reaching  Amalfi  and  surveying  his  brother's 
army,  Boemund  went  to  work  with  his  wonted  craft. 
He  preached  the  crusade  in  language  not  less  eloquent 
than  Peter ;  and  he  produced  under  the  walls  of 
Amalfi  an  effect  hardly  less  mai'vellous  than  Urban 
had  produced  at  the  Council  of  Clermont.  Everybody 
was  attracted  by  his  orations ;  and  ere  long  the  camp 
throbbed  with  enthusiasm  for  the  Holy  War. 

"  God  -wills  it !  "  at  length  resounded  from  thousands 
of  voices. 

"  Yes,"  said  Boemund,  "  it  is  the  will  of  God  ;  and 
when  all  the  brave  captains  and  soldiers  of  Europe 
have  taken  the  cross,  we  shall  be  unworthy  of  Heaven 
if  we  hesitate." 

Congratulating  himself  on  the  triumph  of  his  elo- 
quence, Boemund  tore  to  pieces  his  red  banner,  formed 
the  strips  into  crosses,  and  presented  them  to  the 
besiegers.  Ere  long  the  whole  army  vowed  to  accom- 
pany him  to  the  Holy  Land  ;  and,  the  siege  having 
been  abandoned,  he  prepared  for  the  expedition.  Nor 
was  his  success  temporary.     No  sooner  had  Boemund 


BOEMUND    OF    TARENTUM.  57 

set  up  his  standard,  than  around  its  red  folds  came 
warriors  of  all  ranks ;  and  he  found  himself  at  the 
head  of  thirty  thousand  men,  eager  to  be  gone.  To 
the  camp  of  Boemund,  among  other  barons  and 
knights,  came  his  nephew  Tancred,  destined  to  be 
celebrated  in  chronicle  and  sons;. 

Having  embarked  for  Greece,  the  Prince  of  Taren- 
tum  landed  at  Durazzo.  The  sight  of  this  place, 
where  in  youth  he  had  distinguished  himself  in  battle 
against  the  Greeks,  recalled  all  Boemund's  aspirations ; 
and  he  immediately  sent  to  recommend  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon  to  seize  the  empire  of  the  East.  Godfrey, 
however,  reminded  the  Norman  chief,  that  they  were 
soldiers  of  the  cross ;  that  they  were  in  arms,  not  to 
take  Constantinople,  but  to  deliver  Jerusalem ;  and 
that  their  duty  as  Christians  was  not  to  attack  the 
Greeks,  but  to  vanquish  the  Pagans.  Boemund  never- 
theless indulged  his  soul  with  visions  of  acquiring  the 
empire,  and,  without  any  effort  to  restrain  the  excesses 
of  his  soldiers,  advanced  through  Macedonia. 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  dread,  that  Alexis  heard  of 
Boemund  having  sent  proposals  to  Godfrey.  The 
Emperor  knew  the  Norman  warrior's  character  and 
feared  his  ambition.  But  ambition  misrht  be  thwarted 
by  cunning,  and  courage  might  be  overcome  by 
bribery.  Without  delay,  therefore,  Alexis  invited 
Boemund  to  Constantmople  ;  and  Boemund,  preceding 
his  army,  hastened  forward  to  oppose  craft  to  craft. 

Alexis  received  Boemund  with  the  utmost  distinc- 
tion, and  Boemund  treated  Alexis  with  the  utmost 
deference.  They  complimented  each  other  on  their 
exploits,  and  exchanged  vows  of  friendship.     As  both 


58  TKE    CRUSADES    A2iD    THE    CJRUSADEKS. 

were  devoid  of  conscience,  no  scruple  interfered  with 
their  promises  ;  and  while  Alexis  solemnly  engaged  to 
grant  the  Prince  of  Tarentum  large  possessions  in 
Greece,  Boemund  vowed  to  prove  himself  in  all  things 
the  Emperor's  fahhful  vassal. 

At  Icnij-th  their  conversation  took  a  turn  which 
betrayed  Boemund  into  rashness  and  startled  Alexis 
into  sincerity.  The  Emperor  happened  to  display  to 
the  Norman  prince  a  chamber  with  treasure ;  and 
Boemund,  surprised  at  the  sight,  could  not,  even  in  the 
Emperor's  presence,  repress  his  admiration. 

"There  is  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "enough  where- 
with to  conquer  kingdoms." 

"  Let  these  treasures,"  said  Alexis,  turning  to  the 
officers  of  his  household,  "  be  immediately  conveyed 
to  the  tent  of  the  Prince  of  Tarentum." 

"  Ah,"  said  Boemund,  affecting  to  decline  the  gift, 
"  your  munificence  is  too  great.  I  cannot  accept  this 
treasure;  but,  if  you  would  bind  me  to  you  for  ever, 
confer  on  me  the  dignity  of  Grand  Domestic  of  the 
Empire." 

"  I  cannot  at  present  grant  that  dignity,"  answered 
Alexis,  starting  at  a  demand  which  alarmed  him  with 
the  recollection  that  he  had  used  the  office  as  a  step- 
ping-stone to  the  throne  ;  "  but  I  promise  it,  brave 
prince,  as  the  reward  of  your  future  services." 

Boemund,  baffled,  retired  to  muse  over  his  pros- 
pects ;  and  Alexis  remained  to  consider  how  lie  might 
best  free  his  capital  from  the  presence  of  men,  whose 
pride  lie  was  weary  of  flattering  and  whose  avarice  he 
was  weary  of  gratifying. 


THE    SIEGE    OF    NICE.  59 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE    SIEGE    OF    NICE. 


The  crusaders,  gathering  gradually  from  difFerent 
nations  to  the  banner  of  the  cross  before  the  walls  of 
Constantinople,  presented  so  formidable  an  appearance, 
ihat  the  Emperor  of  the  East  grew  more  and  more 
alarmed.  Forgetting  the  fear  he  had  entertained  of 
Moslem  foes,  Alexis  became  only  anxious  to  be  saved 
from  Christian  friends.  At  length,  in  May,  1097,  the 
wily  Greek  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the 
crusaders  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  Bosphorus  ; 
and,  by  way  of  fulfilling  a  promise  to  accompany 
them  with  an  army  to  Jerusalem,  he  prepared  to  fol- 
low their  march  —  "  like  the  bird  that  seeks  its  prey 
in  the  lion's  track." 

Having  landed  in  Asia  Minor,  the  crusaders  crossed 
the  plains  of  Bithynia,  and  advanced,  in  martial  array, 
towards  Nice.  A  hundred  thousand  horsemen,  and 
five  hundred  thousand  footmen,  formed  the  army. 
Dukes  who  had  mortgaged  their  duchies,  and  counts 
who  had  pledged  their  counties,  figured  as  its  chiefs. 
Priests,  whose  sober  vestments  proclaimed  them  dead 
to  the  world,  and  prelates,  whose  chain  mail  and  price- 
less chargers  proved  that  they  laid  claim  to  no  such 
distinction,  mingled  with  dukes  and  counts.     Women 


GO     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

in  their  teens,  who  relished  every  novelty,  and  grand- 
mothers of  threescore,  who  declared  that  all  was 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,  conversed  by  the  way 
with  warriors  and  churchmen.  Young  knights,  with 
white  hawks  on  their  wrists  and  red  scarfs  on  their 
arms,  listened  with  patience  to  stately  dames  and  talked 
merrily  to  laughuig  damsels,  or  rode  to  and  fro  to  view 
the  coimtry,  and  guard  against  being  attacked  un- 
awares. As  yet  most  people  found  the  expedition 
cheerful  and  exciting.  Everything,  indeed,  wore  an 
encouraging  aspect.  Banners  waved  ;  bridles  rang ; 
mail  rattled ;  steeds  pranced ;  trumpets  sounded  ; 
monks  sang  hymns  of  praise  ;  and  heralds  shouted, 
"  Save  the  Holy  Sepulchre  1  "  Such  was  the  com- 
position, and  such  the  appearance,  of  that  army  with 
which  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  on  his  war-horse,  and  Peter 
the  Hermit  on  his  mule,  approached  the  capital  of 
Bithynia.  Never  had  the  Saracens  seen  such  foes  as 
those  who  were  now  marching  to  deliver  the  Holy 
Sepulchre. 

But  the  Sultan  of  Nice  held  no  counsel  with  despair. 
Whatever  came  to  pass,  he  was  not  likely  to  be  found 
by  armed  foemen  lolling  luxuriously  in  the  recesses  of 
his  palace.  Exhibiting  characteristic  energy  at  the 
news  of  the  approach  of  foes,  he  fortified  his  capital, 
and  summoned  subjects  and  allies  to  his  aid.  Confident 
in  the  fortification  and  the  enthusiasm  of  Nice,  the 
Sultan  placed  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  treasures 
whhin  the  walls  ;  and  having  encouraged  the  garrison 
with  assurances  of  aid  and  promises  of  reward,  he 
encamped,  with  a  numerous  army,  on  the  neighboring 
mountains, 


THE    SIEGE    OF    NICE.  61 

Scarcely  had  the  SuUan  completed  liis  preparations, 
when,  on  the  lOth  of  May,  the  crusaders  appeared 
beibre  Nice.  Tlie  aspect  of  the  place  was  not  such 
as  to  encourage  hopes  of  an  easy  capture.  Strong 
walls  environed  the  town;  hundreds  of  towers  and 
turrets  protected  the  walls;  a  ditch  broad  and  deep 
surrounded  the  fortifications;  Lake  Ascanius  washed 
the  foundations,  and  communicated  conveniently  with 
the  sea.  Moreover,  the  Sultan's  choicest  troops 
manned  the  ramparts  ;  and,  in  white  tents  spread  over 
the  mountain  side,  around  the  black  banner  of  the 
Abassides,  a  mighty  army  of  Moslem  warriors  lay 
ready,  at  a  signal,  to  grasp  their  spears  and  rush 
down  to  the  city's  rescue.  Every  precaution,  which 
skill  could  devise,  the  Sultan  had  taken  to  prevent  the 
triumph  anticipated  by  the  Christian  invaders. 

But  the  Normans  and  Franks  were  not  daunted. 
Encamping  on  a  level  plain,  watered  by  rivulets  that 
flowed  from  the  mountains,  the  crusaders  commenced 
the  siege  with  zeal  and  courage.  Such,  indeed,  was 
the  enthusiasm,  that  chiefs  did  the  work  of  soldiers  ; 
and  priests,  passing  continually  along  the  ranks, 
reminded  them  of  the  holy  cause  of  which  they  were 
the  champions.  Under  such  influences,  the  crusaders 
made  several  attempts  with  more  zeal  than  discretion  ; 
but  the  exploits  performed  convinced  the  Saracens  of 
the  marvellous  valor  with  which  they  had  to  contend. 

The  Sultan,  on  becoming  acquainted  with  the  opera- 
tions of  the  Frank  warriors,  considered  that   the  time 
had  come   for  a   great  effort ;  and,   calling  his   cliiefs 
together,   he   addressed   them  in   inspiriting    language, 
6 


62  THE    CRUSADES    ANT)    TTIE    CE.USADEKS. 

promised  them  not  only  victory,  but  the  richest  booty, 
and  assured  them  that  their  enemies  were  at  discord 
with  each  other,  and  would  be  easily  vanquished.  This 
ceremony  over,  the  Sultan  girded  on  his  armor;  and, 
at  the  head  of  his  soldiers,  suddenly  descended  from 
the  mountains  and  advanced  to  the  attack.  ^ 

But  the  Moslem  warrior  found  that  he  had  to 
encounter  men  of  very  different  mould  from  those  who 
composed  the  mob  led  by  Walter  the  Penniless.  At 
first,  indeed,  fortune  seemed  to  smile  on  his  adventure. 
Charging  the  soldiers  of  Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  he 
succeeded  in  producing  some  disorder  among  the 
Provencals.  But  the  voice  and  example  of  the  old 
Count  soon  restored  the  courage  of  his  men  ;  and,  ere 
the  Saracens  had  time  to  pursue  their  advantage, 
Curthose  and  the  Count  of  Flanders  charged  upon 
them  with  the  lance.  A  brief  but  bloody  struggle 
ensued ;  and  the  Sultan,  finding  his  antagonists  infi- 
nitely more  formidable  than  he  had  anticipated,  sounded 
a  retreat. 

The. crusaders  raised  the  song  of  triumph,  and  the 
Sultan,  finding  how  futile  had  been  his  efforts,  aban- 
doned Nice  to  its  fate,  and  postponed  a  decisive  battle 
with  the  Christian  warriors.  Relieved  from  the  pres- 
ence of  a  watchful  foe,  the  crusaders  pressed  the 
siege  with  renewed  vigor ;  and  with  the  aid  of  a  Lom- 
bard engineer,  carried  on  the  work  of  destruction. 
All  the  warlike  science  of  the  age  was  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  siege.  Rams  battered  the  walls ;  balisters 
unceasingly  discharged  huge  stones  ;  catapults  slung 
blocks  of  wood  and  masses  of  stone  with  a  crash  into 
the  city ;  and  tall  wooden  towers,  wheeled  forward  to 


THE    SIEGE    OF    NICE. 


63 


the  ramparts,  conveyed  the  besiegers  to  close  conflict 
with  the  besieged.* 

Nevertheless,  Nice  hold  out  bravely ;  and  week 
after  week  passed  without  the  crusaders  gaining  any 
signal  advantage.  Every  male  inhabitant,  capable  of 
drawing  a  bow  or  casting  a  stone,  had  taken  arms ; 
and  the  defence  was  of  the  most  desperate  nature. 
Machines  covered  the  ramparts,  and  hurled  destruction 
upon  the  assailants ;  beams  of  wood  and  blocks  of 
stone  fell  constantly ;  and  one  Saracen  of  gigantic 
proportions  particularly  distinguished  himself  during 
the  siege.  He  seldom  missed  his  aim ;  and  with 
arrows,  javelins,  and  stones,  he  was  equally  successful. 
One  .day  when  thus  engaged,  he  stood  up  and  defied 
the  bravest  Christian,  and  loaded  them  with  abuse.  A 
hundred  arrows  were  immediately  directed  against 
him ;  but  he  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  hfe.  At  length 
Godfrey  of  Bouillon  seized  a  crossbow  and  took  aim. 
In  another  moment  the  huge  carcass  of  the  Saracen 
rolled  into  the  ditch,  shot  through  the  heart. 

By  lliis  time,  the  siege  of  Nice  had  lasted  for 
several  weeks,  and  the  crusaders  perceived  that,  so 
long  as  supplies  reached  the  city  by  Lake  Ascanius, 

*  "  "Wc  must  not  think,"  says  Fuller,  "  that  the  world  was  at 
a  loss  for  war-tools  before  the  brood  of  guns  was  hatched.  It 
had  the  battering  I'am,  first  found  out  by  Epeus  at  the  taking 
of  Troy  :  the  balista,  to  discharge  great  stones,  invented  by  the 
Phenicians  :  the  catapulta,  being  a  sling  of  mighty  strength, 
whereof  the  Syrians  were  authors.  But  these  and  many  more 
voluminous  engines  (for  the  ram  alone  had  one  hundred  men  to 
Avork  it)  are  now  virtually  epitomised  in  the  cannon."  —  His- 
tury  of  the  JIuly  War. 


64     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

the  defence  might  be  indefinitely  protracted.  Measures 
were,  therefore,  taken  ;  and  one  night  boats,  brought 
overland,  were  launched  in  the  water.  On  board 
of  each  boat  a  band  of  warriors  embarked ;  and 
next  morning  the  besieged,  with  dismay,  observed 
the  lake  covered  with  countless  foes.  Ere  long  it 
became  known  throughout  the  city,  that  while 
attempting  to  escape,  the  wife  and  children  of  the 
Sultan  had  been  captured ;  and  the  Saracens  gave 
way  to  despair. 

It  was  now  the  20th  of  June  ;  and  the  crusaders, 
considering  the  result  no  longer  doubtful,  girded  them- 
selves up  for  a  last  strenuous  effort.  Alexis,  how- 
ever, had  prepared  at  this  point  to  cheat  them  out  of 
the  fruits  of  their  valor.  He  had  previously  sent  to 
the  siege  an  admiral  and  a  general ;  and  these  men, 
coming  ostensibly  to  aid  the  crusaders,  but  in  reality  to 
prevent  them  getting  possession  of  Nice,  obtained 
admission  at  a  critical  moment,  and  persuaded  the 
inhabitants  that,  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the 
Franks,  their  best  plan  was  to  surrender  to  the  Em- 
peror. The  Saracens  took  the  advice  of  the  Greeks ; 
and  when  the  crusaders  were  about  to  make  a  crown- 
ing effort,  the  standard  of  Alexis  was  suddenly  dis- 
played from  tower  and  turret. 

Enraged  at  what  they  regarded  as  perfidy,  the 
crusaders  retired  to  their  tents  and  gave  vent  to  their 
indignation.  Alexis,  however,  invited  the  leaders  to 
a  conference  ;  and,  having  highly  lauded  their  valor 
and  conduct,  he  contrived,  by  valuable  gifts,  to  silence 
their  murmurs.  Nevertheless,  the  crusaders  now  re- 
garded the  Emperor  of  the  East  as  the  worst  of  foes ; 


THE    SIEGE    OF    NICK  65 

and,  with  undisguised  hatred  and  contempt  for  the 
potentate  to  whom  they  had  done  homage,  they  set 
forward  from  Nice  on  their  marcli  towards  tlie  Holy 
City. 


G* 


6G  THE    CJiUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    DOGORGAN. 

Before  marching  from  Nice,  the  pilgrim  princes, 
the  more  easily  to  procure  provisions  and  forage  by 
the  way,  arrayed  their  men  in  two  divisions.  One  of 
these,  and  by  far  the  most  numerous,  was  conducted 
by  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  the 
Count  of  Vermandois,  and  the  Count  of  Flanders. 
The  other,  composed  prmcipally  of  fighting  men, 
brought  by  Norman  princes  to  the  holy  war,  was  head- 
ed by  Curthose,  Tancred,  and  Boemund  of  Tarentum. 

While  Godfrey,  at  the  head  of  the  main  army,  took 
his  way  across  the  plain  of  Doryleum,  Boemund  and 
the  Norman  warriors,  pursuing  a  somewhat  different 
course,  marched  along  the  margin  of  a  river,  and  en- 
tered the  valley  of  Dogorgan.  They  were  utterly  un- 
acquainted with  the  country.  But,  confident  in  their 
valor,  they  followed  the  stream,  and  trusted  to  sharp 
swords  and  strong  arms  extricating  them  from  any 
dangers  into  which  they  might  fall. 

On  the  evening  of  the  30th  of  June,  the  Norman 
crusaders  reached  a  spot  where  they  were  tempted  to 
encamp.  At  one  side  was  the  river,  on  the  other  a 
sedgy  marsh  ;  while  around  grew  plenty  of  grass  ; 
and,  hard  by,  abundance  of  timber.     Everything  ap- 


f. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    DOGORGAN.  67 

pearing  secure,  Boemund  called  a  halt ;  heralds,  ac- 
cording to  custom,  cried  three  times,  "  Save  the  Holy 
Sepulchre !  "  and  the  crusaders  having  pitched  their 
tents,  and  tethered  their  horses,  indulged  in  what  cheer 
they  had,  and  stretched  their  limbs  to  rest. 

The  sun  set ;  darkness  overshadowed  the  valley : 
and  the  night  passed  over  in  peace.  At  break  of  day, 
however,  Greeks  came  to  the  camp  with  intelligence 
that  the  Sultan  of  Nice  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river  with  a  numerous  army ;  and,  scarcely  had  the 
crusaders  sprung  in  a  somewhat  incredulous  mood 
from  their  lairs,  when  clouds  of  dust,  on  the  ridge  of 
the  mountains,  announced  the  presence  of  a  foe.  All 
doubt  was  now  removed.  The  Sultan,  with  two  hun- 
dred thousand  Moslems  at  his  back,  had  come  to  enjoy 
his  revenge. 

It  was  well  for  the  crusaders,  in  that  hour  of  peril, 
they  had  at  their  head  such  a  warrior  as  Boemund. 
With  skill  and  coolness  worthy  of  his  reputation,  the 
Norman  chief  rapidly  prepared  for  resistance.  Having 
hastily  fortified  the  camp  with  wagons  and  palisades, 
and  placed  the  women  and  sick  in  the  centre,  he  posted 
the  mfantry  around,  and  moved  forward  the  cavalry, 
under  Tancred  and  Curthose,  to  dispute  the  passage  of 
the  river,  lance  in  hand.  Boemund,  after  thus  array- 
ing his  men,  stationed  himself,  with  his  riders,  on  some 
rising  ground,  there  to  watch  the  battle,  and  issue  such 
orders  as  events  rendered  expedient. 

The  Prince  of  Tarentum  had  scarcely  formed  the 
crusaders  into  battle  order,  when  white  turbans,  and 
green  vests,  and  long  spears,  on  the  edge  of  the  moun- 
taui,   began   to   move  :  and   the   Saracens   descended 


68     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

into  the  valley.  Blowing  their  horns,  beating  their 
drums,  and  minghng  their  voices  in  a  fearful  yell,  the 
turbaned  warriors  approached  the  river's  margin,  and 
thence  discharged  volleys  of  arrows  and  darts,  which 
rattled  among  the  Norman  knights.  This  led  to  serious 
consequences ;  for  though  the  linked  mail  of  the  riders 
saved  them  from  injury,  many  horses,  writhing  under 
wounds  and  utterly  unused  to  the  Saracens'  drums  and 
yells,  grew  restive  at  such  sounds,  capered,  pranced, 
and  flung  furiously.  The  position  of  the  horsemen, 
who  were  exposed  to  a  sun  of  intolerable  brightness, 
gradually  became  worse  ;  and,  galled  by  the  incessant 
flight  of  arrows,  they  gave  way  to  impatience,  which, 
at  first,  manifested  itself  in  muttered  imprecations  and 
at  length  broke  through  all  restraint. 

"  We  must  take  order  with  the  infidel  rabble,"  cried 
one  warrior. 

"  Yes,"  said  a  dozen  voices,  "  let  us  charge  :"  and 
with  a  cry  of  "  Dieu  aide,"  the  Norman  knights  dashed 
into  the  river,  and  spurred  through  the  stream. 

But  the  Saracens  had  no  intention  of  indulo-incr  their 
foes  with  a  close  conflict.  Trusting  to  their  horses, 
which  seem.ed  swifter  than  eagles,  they  opened  their 
i*anks  whenever  the  Normans  presented  themselves, 
dispersed  to  a  distance,  and  then  rallying,  discharged 
fresh  missiles.  Unaccustomed  to  such  a  style  of  war- 
fare, the  crusaders  soon  fell  into  disorder ;  and  the 
Saracens  availed  themselves  so  speedily  of  the  circum- 
stance, that  saddle  after  saddle  emptied,  and  knight 
after  knight  reeled  to  the  dust.  The  carnage  increased 
every  minute ;  and  horses  without  riders,  running 
hither  and  thither,  added  to  the  confusion. 


^,  >  j\c. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    DOGOKGATC.  69 

The  armed  pilgrims  now  began  to  lose  energy.  It 
was  in  vain  that  such  leaders  as  Tancred  and  Count 
Robert  of  Paris  threw  themselves  into  the  melee.  Count 
Robert,  after  having  seen  forty  of  his  comrades  killed, 
fell  mortally  wounded.  Tancred,  whose  lance  had 
been  broken,  was  on  the  point  of  being  struck  down  ; 
but  Boemund,  hastily  crossing  the  stream,  shouted  his 
war-cry,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  spurred  into  the  rescue, 
and  bore  off  his  nephew  in  safety. 

While  this  struggle  was  taking  place,  and  troop  after 
troop  of  Saracens  descended  the  hill  to  continue  the 
fight,  the  Sultan,  with  a  body  of  choice  horsemen, 
dashed  over  to  the  Christian  camp,  and  scattered  Boe- 
mund's  infantry  right  and  left.  Fearful  was  the  scene. 
Priests  gave  themselves  up  for  lost ;  and  dames  and 
damsels  began  to  anticipate  a  fate  worse  than  death. 

But  the  priests  and  ladies  soon  found  that  there  was 
hope.  At  this  point  Curthose,  who  had  prudently  re- 
frained from  crossing  the  river,  advanced  to  the  rescue, 
and  with  a  shout  of  "  God  wills  it !  "  spurred  into  the 
midst  of  the  foe.  Nothing  could  resist  his  onset. 
Followed  by  a  host  of  knights,  with  his  banner  flying 
and  his  sword  flashing,  the  Norman  duke  overcame  all 
obstacles,  and,  cutting  down  three  of  the  principal 
Saracens  with  his  own  hand,  inspired  every  crusader 
with  new  courage. 

While  Curthose  was  performing  prodigies  of  valor, 
and  carving  a  path  through  the  Saracens,  Boemund, 
hearing  of  the  danger  to  which  the  camp  was  exposed, 
drew  his  rein,  and  hastened  with  his  riders  to  the 
rescue.  Meeting  a  body  of  crusaders  who  were  flying, 
he  pulled  up  his  steed,  and  pointed  out  the  absurdity  of 
their  conduct. 


70     THE  CRUSADES  AXD  THE  CRUSADERS. 

"  AVhither  are  you  riding,  Christian  soldiers  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  Don't  you  see  that  the  horses  of  the  Sara- 
cens, have  more  speed  than  yours  ?  " 

"It  is  true,"  muttered  the  fugitives  in  accents  of 
despondency. 

"  Come,  then,  follow  me,"  said  Boemund  ;  *'  I  will 
show  you  a  safer  road  than  flight ;  "  and  charging  the 
Saracens,  sword  in  hand,  he  succeeded  in  expelling 
Sultan  and  soldiers  from  the  camp. 

Nevertheless  the  battle  wore  an  aspect  most  alarming 
to  the  crusaders.  Notwithstanding  the  prowess  dis- 
played by  Boemund  and  Curthose,  and  the  valor  with 
which  they  inspired  their  followers,  every  one  felt  that 
the  struggle  could  not  longer  be  maintained.  The  sun 
was  high  in  the  heavens,  the  heat  was  scorching  ;  men 
were  choked  with  dust,  parched  with  thirst,  and 
fatigued  with  bearing  up  the  fight  against  such  odds ; 
and  horses,  tired,  wounded,  and  bleeding,  hardly  re- 
tained sufficient  strength  to  carry  their  riders.  While 
in  this  plight  they  retreated  to  the  camp.  Before 
them  were  hosts  of  Saracens  eager  for  carnage;  and 
at  the  head  of  the  Saracens  was  a  Sultan  panting  for 


revenge. 


"  We  need  cherish  no  hope  of  seeing  Jerusalem," 
said  the  crusaders,  mournfully.  "  Our  doom  is  clearly 
to  die  to-day." 

"  We  need  not  yet  despair,"  Boemund.  would  argue, 
"  it  is  hours  since  I  despatched  messengers  to  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine.  Ere  this  he  knows  our  peril.  Any  mo- 
ment may  bring  thousands  of  spears  to  our  rescue.  If 
not,  we  can  at  least  sell  our  lives  dearly." 

Boemund's  courage,  however,  was  shared  by  few. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    DOGORGAN.  71 

Heroism  itself  could  not  sustain  the  spirit  of  a  handful 
of  men,  who  saw  before  them  a  host  bent  on  their  de- 
struction, and  thousands  of  sabres  thirsting  for  their 
blood.  Everywhere  in  the  Christian  camp  appeared 
consternation  and  despair.  Women  were  bewailing 
their  fate ;  priests  were  imploring  God's  aid  ;  and  sol- 
diers, on  their  knees,  were  entreating  priests  to  grant 
them  absolution. 

But  suddenly,  from  the  midst  of  dismay  and  dread, 
arose  a  shout  of  exultation,  which  was  echoed  and  re- 
echoed by  hill  and  rock.  The  imperilled  Christians 
might  well  shout  with  joy ;  for  clarion  and  trumpet  an- 
nounced the  approach  of  friends ;  and  soon,  under  the 
sacred  standard,  borne  by  the  Count  of  Vermandois, 
fifty  thousand  horsemen,  headed  by  Godfrey  Bouillon, 
came  cantering  over  the  hill. 

The  Sultan  of  Nice  now  seemed  to  think  his  plight 
the  reverse  of  enviable.  After  pausing  to  survey  the 
coming  foe,  and  attempting  to  appear  disdainful  of  the 
danger,  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  sound  a  retreat  and 
return  to  the  mountain.  Perhaps  he  thought  the 
crusaders  would  not  follow.  If  so,  he  was  mistaken. 
No  sooner  did  Godfrey  arrive,  than  he  set  his  men  in 
order  and  prepared  for  the  assault. 

All  were  soon  ready  :  but,  ere  Godfrey  gave  the 
signal,  priests  passed  along  the  lines,  and  after  bestow- 
in  o-  the  church's  blessing,  reminded  the  Christian  war- 
riors of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  and  exhorted  them  to  fight 
manfully.  An  order  to  rush  upon  the  foe  was  then 
passed  from  rank  to  rank  ;  and,  with  a  cry  of  "  God 
wills  it !  "  every  man  sprang  forward. 

The  Sultan  witnessed  the  preparations  of  the  cru- 


72     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEKS. 

saders  from  tlie  mountain,  to  which  he  had  retreated, 
and  appeared  to  consider  that  hills,  and  crags,  and 
rocks  guaranteed  his  safety.  But  the  Moslem  chief 
soon  found  that  he  was  in  error.  Indeed  the  crusaders, 
to  whom  the  sight  of  their  slaughtered  comrades  was 
as  scarlet  to  the  wounded  bull,  felt  a  craving  for  car- 
nage, and  the  soldiers  of  Raymond  of  Thoulouse  ascend- 
ed the  acclivity  with  such  impetuosity,  that  the  first 
ranks  of  the  Saracens  were  instantly  broken. 

While  Raymond  and   his  men  were  carrying  every- 
thing before  them,  the  Saracens  found  themselves  at- 
tacked on  one  flank  bv  Boemund  and  Curthose,  and  on 
the    other   by   Godfrey  of  Bouillon   and  the  Count  of 
Flanders.     All  was  now  disorder  ;  and  to  make  their 
situation  desperate,  the  Bishop  of  Puy,  who  had  con- 
ducted the   reserve   round   a  hill,  fell  upon  their  rear 
and  completed  the  rout.     Vain  then  proved  the  sound 
of  Saracenic  horn  and  drum  ;  vain  the  sweep  of  sword 
and  crooked  sabre.     Surrounded  as  the  Saracens  were 
on  all  sides,  the  idea  of  flight  scarcely  suggested  a  hope 
of  safety.     Animated,   however,   by  despair,  they  en- 
deavored   to    escape   through   woods   and   over   rocks. 
But  the   crusaders  proved  vigilant  and   active  ;  multi- 
tudes  of  the  turbaned  warriors   fell  on  the  mountain 
side  ;    and    the   Sultan,   seeing  his  army    scattered    in 
dismay,  lost  heart,  spurred  from  the   scene   of  action, 
"  and,  to    prop   up   his  credit,   gave   out  that  he   had 
gotten  the  day,  pleasing  himself  to  be  a  conqueror  in 
report." 

The  pilgrims,  finding  themselves  victors,  proceeded 
to  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  where  a  rich  booty  reward- 
ed their  valor.     Provisions,  treasures,  camels  —  which 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BOGORGAN.  73 

they  had  never  before  seen  —  and  tents,  the  magnifi- 
cence of  which  excited  their  admiration,  fell  into  their 
possession. 

As  evening  was  closing  over  the  plains  of  Doryleum, 
the  crusaders,  loaded  with  booty,  returned  to  their 
camp.  Before  them  marched  priests  singing  hymns 
of  gratitude  ;  behind  them  came  the  camels  and  horses 
which  had  become  their  prey.  Many,  however,  had  to 
deplore  the  loss  of  brothers  and  kinsmen.  No  fewer 
than  four  thousand  European  warriors  had  perished  in 
the  melee  of  the  morning.  But  the  mourners  were 
not  without  consolation.  Indeed,  it  was  believed  that 
the  souls  of  those  who  fell  with  arms  in  their  hands 
and  the  cross  on  their  shoulders,  were  purified  from  all 
sin ;  and  priests  while  committing  the  dead  to  their 
graves  in  the  valley  of  Dogorgan,  reminded  survivors 
that  the  names  of  men  who  died  for  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre were  at  once  enrolled  in  the  army  of  martyrs. 


74     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ANTIOCH. 


After  celebrating  their  victory  at  Dogorgan,  the 
warriors  of  the  cross  took  their  way  towards  Antioch. 
Marching  in  a  body,  they  avoided  tlie  hazard  of  an 
attack  by  superior  numbers,  as  on  the  1st  of  July. 
But  they  were  ere  long  exposed  to  other  disasters, 
scarcely  less  disagreeable. 

It  soon  appeared,  indeed,  that  the  march  of  the  cru- 
saders to  Antioch  was  not  to  prove  quite  so  pleasant  as 
that  to  Nice  had  been.  The  Sultan,  with  a  desire  for 
vengeance,  but  without  hope  of  gratifying  it  in  battle, 
determined  to  lay  waste  the  country  through  which  his 
conquerors  had  to  pass  :  and  performed  the  operation 
so  effectually,  that  they  soon  experienced  extreme 
perplexity.  Neither  food  for  men  nor  fodder  for 
horses  could  be  met  with  ;  and  the  pilgrims  for  some 
time  subsisted  on  roots  of  plants,  and  such  ears  of  corn 
as  the  Sultan's  cavalry  had  failed  to  destroy. 

The  utmost  distress  soon  prevailed.  Hawks,  hounds, 
horses,  and  human  beings  suffered  alilve.  Hawks 
drooped  and  died ;  hounds  scampered  off  in  search  of 
food ;  horses  sank  exhausted ;  women  rolled  on  the 
sand,  and  in  accents  of  despair  invoked  death  ;  and 
robust  men,  giving  way  to  toil  and  famine,  perished  by 


THE    SIEGE    OF    AJSTIOCII.  75 

hundreds.  Ere  long,  to  the  suffering  caused  by  want 
of  food  was  added  the  misery  arising  from  scarcity  of 
water.  At  length  not  a  well,  not  a  spring,  not  a  brook 
was  to  be  met  with.  Every  throat  was  parched  — 
every  tongue  felt  as  if  on  fire. 

But  at  this  desperate  stage  Providence,  by  sending 
the  dogs  back  to  the  camp,  mercifully  interposed  to 
save  the  Christian  army  from  destruction.  Observing 
that  their  canine  companions  returned  with  wet  skins  and 
paws  covered  with  sand,  the  crusaders  judged  that  water 
was  near,  and,  following  the  foot-prints,  found  a  supply. 
No  discovery  could  have  been  more  welcome.  The 
pilgrims  rushed  in  a  mass  towards  the  place,  and  threw 
themselves  into  the  water.  But  moderation,  under  the 
circumstances,  was  hardly  to  be  expected  ;  and  while 
hundreds,  from  quenching  their  thirst  without  prudence, 
died  on  the  spot,  many  became  too  sick  to  continue 
their  journey.  But  still  in  the  midst  of  suffering  the 
cry  of  the  chiefs  was  "  Onward  ;"  and  still  the  burden 
of  the  heralds'  proclamation  was  —  "  Save  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  I" 

At  length  this  march,  memorable  for  its  miseries, 
drew  to  a  close  ;  and  about  the  middle  of  October,  the 
crusaders,  passing  mountain  chains,  came  in  sight  of  a 
fertile  and  charming  country,  and  forgot  all  mishaps 
and  misfortunes,  as  the  city  of  Antioch  appeared  before 
their  eyes. 

Antioch  was  known  as  "  Queen  of  the  East,"  and 
seemed  not  unworthy  of  the  name.  A  beautiful  situa- 
tion, a  lofty  castle,  magnificent  edifices,  and  strong 
walls  fortified  by  four  hundred  and  sixty  towers,  gave 
a  dignified  and  picturesque  aspect  to  the  city.     On  the 


76  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

north  rose  one  mountain  covered  with  houses  and  gar- 
dens ;  on  the  south  another  mountain  celebrated  for  its 
forests  and  springs.  The  suburbs,  which  boasted  of 
the  fountain  of  Daphne,  wx're  fair  to  look  upon  :  and 
the  ramparts  were  washed  by  the  River  Orontes, 
which  communicated  with  a  lake  abounding  in  fish, 
and,  at  a  few  miles'  distance,  flowed  into  the  sea. 

But  to  the  crusaders  Antioch  was  interestino;  from 
its  historical  connection  with  the  faith  of  which  they 
were  the  champions.  At  Antioch  the  disciples  of  our 
Redeemer  assumed  the  name  of  Christians  :  and  there 
Peter  was  named  first  bishop  of  the  Christian  church. 
Moreover,  Antioch  was  associated  with  miracles  ;  with 
saints  and  martyrs  ;  and  with  Christian  pilgrims,  who 
regarded  the  "  Queen  of  the  East  "  with  hardly  less 
veneration  than  the  Holy  City. 

When  approached  by  the  crusaders,  Antioch  was 
possessed  by  the  Saracens,  governed  by  a  prince 
named  Auxian,  and  prepared  for  an  obstinate  defence. 
But  the  warriors  of  the  West  were  in  no  mood  to  be 
daunted.  The  successes  achieved  by  the  army  on  its 
march  had  been  considerable.  Tancred  and  Baldwin 
of  Bouillon  had  talven  Tarsus.  Tancred  had  then 
seized  Malmistra  and  Alexandretta  ;  while  Baldwin  not 
only  made  himself  master  of  the  principality  of  Edessa, 
but,  by  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  an  Armenian 
prince,  extended  his  sovereignty  over  the  richest  prov- 
inces of  Ancient  Assyria.  Besides,  many  cities  of 
Minor  Asia  had  voluntaiily  offered  homage  ;  and  the 
crusaders,  elate  with  success,  approached  Antioch  with 
an  idea  that  no  enterprise  was  too  difiicult  for  them  to 
accomplish. 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ANTIOCH.  77 

Between  the  pilgrims,  however,  and  the  city  of 
which  they  proposed  to  take  possession,  flowed  the 
Orontes,  which  was  spanned  by  a  bridge,  defended  by 
towers  masked  with  iron.  In  order  to  arrive  before 
the  walls,  it  was  necessary  to  seize  this  bridge,  and  the 
adventure  seemed  somewhat  perilous.  But  Curthose 
led  the  van  ;  and  the  Norman  duke,  who  never  shrunk 
from  danger  in  any  form,  charged  with  so  much  valor 
that  every  obstacle  gave  way.  Forcing  a  passage,  and 
cutting  down  all  who  opposed,  Curthose  chased  the 
defenders  of  the  bridge  to  the  gates  of  Antioch,  while 
the  main  army,  with  banners  flying  and  trumpets  sound- 
ing, passed  the  river. 

Encamping  near  the  walls  of  Antioch,  the  cru- 
saders held  a  council  of  war,  and,  after  much  solemn 
debate,  resolved  on  a  siege.  With  this  object  they  ad- 
vanced to  the  gates.  Strangely  enough,  however,  not 
a  foe  appeared  on  the  ramparts.  The  crusaders,  of 
course,  felt  some  surprise ;  but,  believing  that  men 
who  lay  hidden  at  such  a  time  would  prove  an  easy 
prey,  they  trusted  to  the  course  of  events,  and  said  — 
"  Let  us  meanwhile  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry." 

And  now  the  armed  pilgrims  brought  discredit  on 
their  enterprise ;  in  fact,  the  soldiers  of  the  cross 
abandoned  themselves  to  license  and  debauchery,  and 
perpetrated  outrages  utterly  at  variance  with  the 
laws  of  God  and  man.  All  the  country  around  An- 
tioch witnessed  their  reckless  proceedings.  In  every 
village  the  work  of  plunder  went  on  ;  and  in  every 
orchard,  crusaders  made  love  to  the  dark-eyed  damsels 
of  Syria.  Even  men  dedicated  to  the  most  austere  of 
professions  were  infected  with  the  prevailing  immoral- 
7* 


•38  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CHUSADERS. 

ity  ;  and  Christian  bishops,  forgetful  of  vows  might 
have  been  seen  stretched  on  the  grass  and  playing  at 
dice  with  nymphs  whose  reputations  were  not  the 
highest. 

While  the  crusaders  were  defying  danger  and 
decency,  the  Saracens  availed  themselves  of  the  cir- 
cumstance  to  make  a  sally  from  Antioch.  The  camp, 
scarcely  guarded,  could  not  resist  their  progress  ;  and 
sweeping  out  of  the  city,  they  cut  off  all  whom  the 
hope  of  pleasure  or  plunder  had  attracted  to  the 
villages  and  orchards.  The  Saracens,  on  returning, 
cast  the  heads  of  the  slain  into  the  camp  ;  and  the 
Christians,  roused  to  fury,  vowed  to  revenge  the 
slaughter  of  their  comrades. 

The  crusaders  now  resolved  upon  storming  An- 
tioch ;  and  a  signal  was  given  for  the  attack.  Havmg 
neither  scaling  ladders  nor  machines,  however,  their 
efforts  failed ;  and  they  found  the  necessity  of  a  more 
systematic  siege.  Accordingly,  they  entrenched  their 
camp,  constructed  a  bridge  over  the  Orontes,  erected 
wooden  towers,  and  occupied  themselves  with  the 
blockade.  But  at  this  point  they  experienced  the 
consequences  of  their  imprudence  :  for  winter  setting 
in,  and  provisions  beginning  to  fail,  they  were  exposed 
*at  once  to  the  hazard  of  cold  and  famine. 

When  matters  reached  this  stage,  Curthose  and 
Boemund  scoured  the  neighborhood  in  search  of 
provisions  ;  and  the  Norman  princes  returned  with  a 
considerable  supply.  But  the  relief  was  temporary, 
and  every  subsequent  expedition  of  the  kind  was  less 
successful.  Indeed,  the  forays  were  so  frequent,  that 
the  country  soon  had  nothing  to  yield,  and  the  most 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ANTIOCH.  '  79 

experienced  border  riders,  who  in  later  centuries  won 
fame  by  their  predatory  exploits,  would  have  given  up 
the  game.  Neither  Kinmont  Willie  nor  Christy  of  the 
Clinthill  could  have  found  it  otherwise  than  impossible 
to  wring  out  of  Upper  Syria,  sufficient  spoil  to  subsist 
the  hungry  army  before  Antioch. 

The  plight  of  the  crusaders  soon  became  intolerable. 
Not  only  was  the  want  of  food  severely  felt  :  other 
horrors  accompanied  hunger.  One  day  they  suffered 
from  torrents  of  rain  ;  another  day,  they  had  to  strug- 
gle against  gusts  of  wind.  When  the  rain  fell  and  the 
wind  blew,  the  camp  was  flooded  with  water,  and  the 
tents  were  carried  away  by  the  hurricane.  The  cru- 
saders were  in  rags  ;  and  disease  appeared  to  add  to 
their  miseries.  At  this  point  many  abandoned  the 
camp.  Among  these  were  Peter  the  Hermit  and 
Robert  Curthose.  But  Peter  having  been  pursued, 
was  brought  forcibly  back  ;  and  Curthose,  after  being 
summoned  in  the  name  of  Christ,  returned  from 
Loadicea. 

At  the  time  when  matters  were  getting  past  the 
worst,  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad  sent  ambassadors  to  offer 
the  crusaders  his  alliance  and  protection.  Wretched 
as  was  their  plight,  the  chiefs  answered  with  indigna- 
tion, and  sent  the  Caliph  a  message  as  full  of  defiance 
as  if  they  had  been  safe  and  comfortable  in  their 
French  and  Norman  castles. 

One  day,  when  winter  had  worn  away,  the  cru- 
saders' chiefs  learned  with  gratification  that  a  fleet  of 
Pisan  and  Genoese  ships  had  entered  the  port  of  St. 
Simeon.  No  sooner  did  the  news  spread,  than 
numbers  of  the  soldiers  rushed  off  to  hear  news  and 


80  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRIJSADEIIS. 

purchase  provisions.  While  returning  to  the  camp, 
the  pilgrims  were  attacked  by  Saracens  ;  and  being, 
for  the  most  part  unarmed,  they  dispersed  in  dismay. 
Hearing  of  this  disaster,  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  with 
Curthose  and  Tancred,  called  out  their  men,  mounted 
their  horses  and  galloped  to  the  rescue. 

At  this  point,  the  prince  of  Antioch  was  on  a 
tower  of  his  palace  ;  and,  having  witnessed  the  skir- 
mish, he  descended,  and  ordered  a  numerous  body  of 
troops  to  the  rescue.  Accompanying  them  to  the 
bridge,  he  pointed  to  the  enemy  whom  they  had  to 
encounter,  and  closed  the  gate  after  them.  "  This," 
said  he,  "  can  only  be  opened  to  you  if  you  return 
victorious." 

The  Saracens  thus  incited,  issued  forth  from  the 
walls ;  and,  meeting  the  crusaders  as  they  rushed 
forward,  commenced  a  skirmish.  But  the  Moslem 
warriors  soon  became  convinced  of  their  inferiority  ; 
and,  giving  way  in  a  body,  made  an  attempt  to  regain 
the  city.  Godfrey,  however,  who  had  no  idea  of 
lettincr  his  foes  off  so  easily,  forced  them  to  renew  the 
combat.  A  sanguinary  battle  was  then  fought.  No 
generalship  was  displayed ;  but  Pagan  and  Christian 
contended  hand  to  hand,  and  steel  to  steel.  Helmet 
and  turban  mingled  confusedly  in  the  struggle,  and 
on  all  sides  deeds  of  marvellous  prowess  were  per- 
formed. 

But  none  showed  more  valor  than  Godfrey  and 
Curthose.  Godfrey  defied  by  a  gigantic  Saracen  to 
single  combat,  spurred  forward,  and,  with  one  sweep 
of  his  sword  divided  the  challenger's  body  from 
shoulder  to    haunch.     Curthose,  assailed  by  the  Sar- 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ANTIOCH.  81 

acen  who  figured  as  chief  in  command,  raised  his 
falchion,  and  with  a  stroke  cleft  the  infidel's  head 
from  crown  to  chest.  "  Pagan  dog !  "  exclaimed 
Curthose,  as  the  Saracen  fell  lifeless  to  the  ground, 
*'  I  devote  thy  impure  soul  to  the  powers  of  hell."" 
The  carnage  and  the  chase  continued  for  hours  ;  and 
not  till  it  was  dark  did  Auxian  open  the  gates  and 
admit  the  fugitives. 

After  the  fight  before  Antioch,  the  Saracens  re- 
garded the  besiegers  with  awe ;  but  month  after 
month  passed  away,  and  May,  1098,  was  drawing  to  a 
close,  without  the  prospect  of  a  surrender.  The  tempt- 
ing prize  for  which  the  crusaders  had  waited  so  long, 
appeared  not  unlikely  to  escape  their  grasp.  Vague 
rumors  already  announced  the  march  of  a  IMoslem 
host,  when  circumstances  opened  up  to  the  warriors 
of  the  cross  a  prospect  of  seizing  by  stratagem  the 
city  which  they  had  been  unable  to  win  by  valor. 


82     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADEKS. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


EMIPHER    AND    BOEMUND. 


From  the  day  on  which  the  crusaders  seized  the 
bridge,  and  approached  the  walls  of  Antioch,  Boemund, 
who  had  left  Constantinople  with  the  determination  to 
possess  a  principality  long  ere  the  pilgrims  reached 
Jerusalem,  indulged  in  visions  of  his  steeds  stalled  in 
the  stables  of  the  palace,  his  soldiers  manning  every 
tower  on  the  w^alls,  and  his  red  banner  waving  from 
the  highest  turret  of  the  castle.  Even  when  matters 
were  at  the  worst,  the  Prince  of  Tarentum  patiently 
enacted  his  part  in  the  enterprise.  At  length  fortune, 
which  throughout  the  siege  had  in  reality  been  favor- 
able to  his  aspirations,  condescended  to  place  the  game 
in  his  hands. 

It  happened  that  within  the  beleaguered  city,  an 
apostate  from  Christianity  was  entrusted  with  an  im- 
portant post,  without  being  very  well  satisfied,  either 
with  himself  or  his  situation.  The  name  of  this  man 
was  Emipher  ;  and  he  had  originally  been  an  Arme- 
nian, of  obscure  parentage.  His  father  is  said  to  have 
been  a  maker  of  cuirases.  But  whatever  the  sire's 
condition,  the  son's  aspirations  were  high ;  and,  in 
efforts  to  realise  them,  he  was  neither  restrained  by 
considerations  of  morality   or   religion.     At  an  early 


EMiniER    AXD    BOEMUND.  83 

ase,  he  renounced  his  faith  to  take  service  with  the 
Prince  of  Antioch  :  and,  having  once  assumed  the  tur- 
ban, he  played  his  cards  so  cleverly,  that  when  the 
crusaders  appeared  before  Antioch,  he  was  high  in  the 
prince's  confidence  and  in  command  of  the  principal 
towers. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  seige,  Emipher  would  seem 
to  have  discharged  his  duty  with  fidelity.  But  as 
months  passed  over,  the  idea  of  betraying  his  trust  to 
advance  his  fortunes,  took  possession  of  the  renegade's 
mind.  At  last  he  formed  his  resolution,  and  contrived 
to  make  the  Prince  of  Tarentum  aware  of  his  wish  for 
some  conversation  on  business  of  importance.  Boe- 
mund,  who  was  not  slow  to  comprehend  such  a  mes- 
sage from  such  a  quarter,  intimated  his  readiness  to 
grant  an  interview. 

Emipher  and  Boemund  met  without  delay  ;  and  the 
hypocritical  renegade,  pretending  to  open  his  heart  to 
the  ambitious  Norman,  expressed  deep  regret  at  having 
deserted  the  religion  of  Christ,  and  deplored  the  perse- 
cution to  which  Christians  were  exposed.  Boemund, 
who  comprehended  the  point  towards  which  his  new 
acquaintance  was  driving,  encouraged  the  traitor  to 
proceed ;  and  Emipher,  assuming  a  solemn  air,  de- 
clared that  Christ  had  appeared  in  a  dream  and 
commanded  him  to  betray  Antioch  to  the  crusaders. 
Boemund,  who  could  play  the  hypocrite  as  well  as 
Emipher,  preached  a  little  sermon,  and  proved  beyond 
question  that  never  before  had  man  been  vouchsafed 
such  a  golden  opportunity  of  making  a  full  and  com- 
plete atonement  for  an  act  of  apostasy. 

After  this  interview,  during  which,  of  course,  Emi- 


84  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CHUSADEHS. 

pher  was  assured  of  high  reward,  in  the  event  of  his 
scheme  proving  successful,  Boemund  called  the  pil- 
grim princes  together,  and  offered  to  have  the  gates  of 
Antioch  thrown  open  to  them  on  certain  conditions,  one 
of  which,  he  hinted,  would  be  the  sovereignty  of  the 
city  for  himself.  But  the  chiefs,  far  from  relishing  the 
project,  distinctly  refused  their  countenance  ;  and  Ray- 
mond of  Thoulouse  elicited  general  applause,  when  he 
expressed  his  opposition  in  the  strongest  language. 
Boemund  retired  from  the  council  baffled  and  vexed  ; 
but  he  felt  that  his  failure  was  temporary,  and  that  his 
proposal  would  ere  long  find  more  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
his  comrades. 

The  Prince  of  Tarentum  was  not  deceived. 
Scarcely,  indeed,  had  the  crusaders  rejected  his  offer, 
when  news  arrived  which  created  the  utmost  conster- 
nation in  the  camp.  The  Sultan  of  Nice,  it  appeared, 
had  succeeded  in  rousing  half  the  East ;  and  the  Sul- 
tan of  Mossoul,  a  man  of  age  and  experience,  was 
marching  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  thousand  Moslem 
warriors  to  exterminate  the  Christians. 

The  pilgrim  princes,  alarmed  at  their  prospects,  now 
consulted  Boemund,  and  on  the  2nd  of  July,  gave  their 
adhesion  to  his  project.  "  After  all,"  said  they,  "  it 
was  Jerusalem,  and  not  Antioch,  we  came  to  deliver." 
Boemund,  after  hearing  the  explanations  of  his  fellow- 
soldiers,  and  sneering  at  their  confused  efforts  to  appear 
consistent,  communicated  with  Emipher,  and  made  ar- 
rangements for  the  execution  of  the  project. 

Every  precaution  having  been  taken,  Boemund,  to 
throw  the  Prince  of  Antioch  off  his  guard,  gave  out 
that  he  was  going  to  encounter  the  Sultan  of  Mossoul, 


EMIPIIER    AND    EOEMUXD.  85 

and  marched  the  pilgrim  army  away  from  the  walls. 
Halting  near  Antioch,  he  passed  the  day  in  a  valley ; 
and  returning  at  night  took  up  his  position  beneath  the 
towers,  where  Emipher  was,  with  breathless  anxiety, 
awaiting  the  result  of  the  plot. 

In  fact,  Emipher  found  his  head  in  danger  ;  for  by 
some  means  a  rumor  spread  through  Antioch  that 
treason  was  at  work.  Even  the  name  of  the  traitor 
was  whispered.  But  Emipher's  audacity  was  equal  to 
the  crisis  ;  and  his  cunning  was  equal  to  his  audacity. 
On  being  summoned  by  the  Prince,  he  appeared  with 
perfect  readiness,  and  gave  advice  for  defeating  con- 
spiracy, Auxian,  completely  deceived,  took  the  ad- 
vice ;  and  Emipher,  loaded  with  thanks,  returned  to  his 
post. 

While  Emipher  meditated  and  reflected  the  day 
closed  ;  darkness  overshadowed  the  city  ;  and  gradu- 
ally all  became  quiet.  A  storm  which  arose  deepened 
the  gloom  and  the  silence,  save  where  broken  by  the 
flash  of  lightning  and  the  roll  of  thunder.  At  that 
time  the  crusaders  began  to  move  noiselessly  under  the 
walls  ;  and  the  Lombard  engineer,  having  ascended  to 
the  ramparts  by  a  ladder,  returned  to  tell  that  all  was 
ready  for  their  reception. 

But  while  Boemund's  heart  was  beating  high,  and 
Emipher's  heart  was  beating  anxiously,  an  unexpected 
difllculty  suddenly  arose.  Neither  leaders  nor  men 
showed  the  slightest  inclination  to  venture  up  the  lad- 
ders. Threats  and  promises  alike  failed  ;  and  Boemund 
at  length  ascended  alone,  in  the  hope  of  his  example 
inspiring  them  with  courage.  Even  after  this  nobody 
moved,  and  the  Prince  of  Tarentum  reached  the  ram- 
8 


86  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADEKS. 

parts  unattended.  Emipher,  however,  received  Boe- 
mund  with  joy,  and  at  once  presented  terrible  evidence 
of  sincerity.  "  That,"  said  he,  pointing  to  a  bed  on 
which  a  man  recently  stabbed  lay  weltering  in  blood, 
"  that  is  my  brother  ;  I  have  just  killed  him  because  he 
refused  to  join  our  enterprise." 

Boemund,  who  perhaps  did  not  feel  so  much  horror 
at  this  fratricide  as  he  ought,  ascertained  that  every- 
thing was  prepared,  and  descended  to  his  comrades. 
With  some  difficulty  he  persuaded  the  Count  of 
Flanders  and  sixty  other  crusaders  to  accompany  him, 
and  again  ascended  to  the  ramparts.  Numbers  then 
took  courage  ;  and,  while  Boemund  was  put  by  Emi- 
pher in  possession  of  several  towers,  Godfrey,  with 
Robert  Curthose,  having  mounted  the  ladders,  caused 
trumpets  to  be  sounded,  and  spread  over  the  city,  with 
a  shout  of  "  God  wills  it !  " 

The  Prince  of  Antioch  and  his  subjects,  roused  from 
their  slumbers,  started  up  in  surprise  at  the  shouts 
which  resounded  through  the  city.  Feeling  that  he 
had  been  betrayed,  Auxian  endeavored  to  escape,  but 
fell  before  the  weapons  of  his  foes  ;  and  few  of  his 
subjects  were  more  fortunate.  Scarcely  aware  what 
had  happened,  they  rushed  hither  and  thither  in 
amazement.  No  mercy  was  shown  them  ;  and  the 
slaughter  continued  so  long,  that  thousands  fell  victims. 

When  the  morning  of  Friday,  the  4th  of  July,  1098, 
dawned,  the  citadel  of  Antioch  was  still  in  the  hands 
of  the  Saracens.  But  the  city  was  in  possession  of  the 
crusaders.  The  streets  were  strewed  with  corpses, 
blood  ran  down  the  gutters,  and  the  red  flag  of  Boe- 
mund waved  over  the  highest  turret. 


THE    GKEAT    EATTLE.  87 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE    GREAT    BATTLE. 


A  FEW  days  after  Boemund  had  taken  possession  of 
Antioch,  three  hundred  Saracens,  mounted  on  Arab 
steeds,  spurred  towards  the  city  and  came  close  to  the 
walls.  The  crusaders,  who  were  still  celebrating  their 
success  with  festivities,  felt  some  anxiety  at  this  cir- 
cumstance ;  and,  ere  long,  they  learned  with  alarm, 
that  the  Sultans  of  Mossoul  and  Nice,  with  nearly  half 
a  million  of  men,  a  hundred  thousand  horses,  and 
fifteen  thousand  camels,  had  encamped  on  the  Orontes. 

The  pilgrims  had  reason  to  regard  the  vicinity  of 
such  foes  with  dread.  Much  treasure  had  been  found 
in  Antioch,  but  no  store  of  provisions;  and  the  pros- 
pect of  a  siege  was  perplexing.  Moreover,  the  Sultan, 
by  seizing  the  pass  of  St.  Simeon,  cut  off  all  hope  of 
supplies  from  Europe ;  and  the  crusaders,  starving  in 
the  midst  of  wealth,  could  not  purchase  the  common- 
est necessaries  for  their  weight  in  gold. 

It  now  became  necessary  to  kill  horses,  and  knights 
witnessed,  with  silent  agony,  the  slaughter  of  war 
steeds  that  had  carried  them  gallantly  on  the  day  of 
Dogorgan.  But  this  source  was  soon  exhausted  ;  and 
the  crusaders  found  themselves  in  a  wretched  predica- 
ment.    Men  of  all  ranks  fared  alike  ;  and  the  proudest 


88     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CHUSADERS. 

of  European  princes  were  reduced  to  a  plight  that 
would  have  been  ludicrous,  had  not  the  circumstances 
been  too  serious  for  mirth.  Deaths  and  desertions 
took  place  by  hundreds ;  and  the  despair  grew  so  deep, 
that  many  uttered  sentiments  savoring  of  blasphemy. 

Amid  famme  and  despair,  Boemund's  characteristic 
courage  sustained  him.  At  first  he  addressed  the  cru- 
saders in  heroic  language,  and,  finding  that  ineffectual, 
he  pointed  out  the  absurdity  of  lying  down  to  die  like 
dogs.  "  It  is  better,"  he  said,  "  to  lose  your  lives 
wholesale  on  the  point  of  the  sword,  than  to  retail 
them  out  by  famine."  But  eloquence  and  argument 
alike  failed  to  create  zeal  and  energy ;  and  it  became 
apparent  that  nothing  less  than  a  miracle  could  restore 
hope  and  courage. 

One  day,  when  affairs  had  reached  a  crisis,  the 
chiefs  of  the  crusade  assembled  to  deliberate  ;  and  a 
priest  of  Marseilles  presented  himself.  "  St.  Andrew," 
he  said,  "  has  appeared  in  a  dream,  and  informed  me, 
that  by  digging  in  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  we  will  find 
the  spear  which  pierced  the  side  of  our  Redeemer, 
and  that  this  weapon,  carried  at  the  head  of  our  army, 
will  insure  us  victory  over  our  enemies."  Believing, 
or  affecting  to  believe,  the  story,  the  pilgrim  princes 
repaired  to  the  church,  and,  after  much  digging,  had 
the  gratification  of  finding  the  object  of  their  search. 

No  miracle  could  have  been  more  beneficial  in  its 
results.  The  chiefs,  on  beholding  the  spear,  felt  their 
courage  revive,  and  crusaders  of  all  ranks,  who  had 
anxiously  awaited  the  issue  of  the  search,  vociferously 
demanded  to  be  led  against  the  foe.  The  princes  were 
in  no  humor  to  oppose   a  wish  so  loudly  expressed. 


THE    GHEAT    BATTLE.  89 

Before  sallying  forth,  however,  they  determined  to 
send  to  the  Sultan  of  Mossoul,  and  selected  Peter  the 
Hermit  as  most  capable  of  figuring  as  ambassador. 
Peter  undertook  the  duty,  and  set  out  on  his  mission. 
One  sight  of  the  mystical  spear  had  kindled  his  zeal 
to  such  a  pitch,  that  no  danger  would  have  daunted 
him. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Saracen  camp,  the  Sultan  of 
Mossoul  occupied  a  magnificent  pavilion.  It  was  formed 
so  as  to  resemble  a  fortified  city,  divided  into  streets 
flanked  with  towers,  furnished  with  every  article  that 
could  contribute  to  oriental  luxury,  and  so  constructed 
as  to  accommodate  two  thousand  people.  In  an  apart- 
ment of  this  structure,  ornamented  with  gems  and 
gold,  the  Sultan,  surrounded  by  Saracen  chiefs,  was 
engaged  with  a  game  of  chess,  when  Peter  the  Her- 
mit, arrayed  in  his  woollen  mantle,  was  introduced. 

"  What  is  your  errand  ? "  asked  the  old  Moslem 
warrior,  turning  from  his  game,  stroking  his  beard,  and 
regarding  the  Hermit  with  contempt. 

"  I  come  in  the  name  of  the  princes  assembled  in 
Antioch,"  said  Peter,  returning  the  Sultan's  glance 
with  stern  pride  ;  "  and  I  conjure  you  in  the  name  of 
God,  to  leave  this  principaHty.  Go  in  peace,  and  I 
promise  that  you  will  not  be  molested.  But  if  you 
refuse  to  go  in  peace,  let  a  battle  convince  you  of  the 
justice  of  our  cause." 

"  Return  to  those  who  sent  you,"  said  the  Sultan, 
in  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  "  and  tell  them  that  it  is  for  the 
conquered  to  receive  conditions,  not  to  dictate  them. 
Bid  thy  captains  hasten,  and,  this  very  day,  implore 
my  clemency.  To-morrow  they  will  find  that  their 
8* 


90  THE    CKUSADES    AXD    THE    CRITSADERS. 

God,  who  could  not  save  himself,   will  not  save  them 
from  the  fate  prepared  for  them," 

"  Listen  ! "  said  Peter,  utterly  undismayed  by  the 
applause  bestowed  on  the  Sultan's  speech  by  the  Sara- 
cen chiefs  around. 

"  Drive  this  vagabond  away,"  exclaimed  the  Sultan, 
laying  his  hand  on  his  sword  ;  "  these  miserable  mendi- 
cants unite  blindness  with  insolence." 

By  this  time  the  crusaders  were  more  eager  than 
ever  for  battle  ;  and  wiien  Peter  carried  the  Sultan's 
answer  to  Antioch,  the  chiefs  proclaimed  that,  next 
day,  they  would  march  against  the  foe.  Some  pro- 
visions having  been  accidentally  obtained,  every  man 
had  the  benefit  of  a  meal ;  and  all  having  heard  mass 
in  the  evening,  lay  down  to  await  the  break  of  day. 
Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  who  was  suffering  from  a 
wound,  agreed  to  remain  and  keep  watch  on  the  cita- 
del. Every  other  chief  prepared  to  take  part  m  the 
encounter. 

When  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  July,  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  battle  of  Dogorgan,  dawned,  a  slight  shower 
came  opportunely  to  refresh  the  atmosphere  ;  and  the 
gates  of  Antioch  having  been  thrown  open,  the  crusad- 
ers issued  forth  in  order  of  battle.  The  Count  of 
Vermandois  bore  the  church's  banner  ;  the  Bishop  of 
Puy  commanded  the  centre  of  the  army,  and  fulfilled 
at  once  the  functions  of  a  skilful  war-chief  and  apos- 
tohc  legate  ;  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  led  the  right  wing, 
mounted  on  the  war-steed  of  Raymond  of  Thoulouse, 
and  attended  by  his  brother  Eustace  and  his  kinsman 
Baldwin  du  Bourg ;  while  the  left  was  under  the 
auspices  of  Curthose  and  the  Count  of  Flanders.     In 


THE    GREAT    BATTLE.  91 

the  rear  was  a  body  of  reserve,  among  whom  were  the 
An£i;lo-Norman  warriors,  led  bv  the  Earl  of  Albemarle  ; 
and  there  Boemund  assumed  his  post,  with  an  eye  on 
every  part  of  the  battle.  Others  were  about  to  fight 
for  life  and  victory ;  but  Boemund  was  going  to  fight 
not  only  for  life  and  victory,  but  for  the  principality  of 
Antioch,  and  the  great  scheme  which  he  hoped  posses- 
sion of  Antioch  would  enable  him  to  realise. 

Marching  westward  to  a  semicircular  plain,  formed 
by  the  mountains  bordering  the  Orontes,  and  covered 
with  dry  grass  and  bushes,  the  crusaders  prepared  for 
a  decisive  action.  Never,  perhaps,  did  an  army 
reduced  to  such  misery  feel  so  confident  of  victory. 
Most  of  the  soldiers  were  in  rags  ;  many  were  suffer- 
ing from  famine  ;  some  were  so  weak,  that  they  walked 
with  difficulty ;  and  others,  in  the  absence  of  horses, 
rode  on  donkeys  and  camels.  But  enthusiasm  made 
up  for  every  defect ;  and  they  marched  with  the  con- 
viction that  heaven  had  decreed  a  victory.  Neither 
clarion  nor  trumpet  cinnounced  their  approach  to  the 
Saracens ;  but  priests,  walking  in  the  van,  bore  aloft 
the  spear  found  in  St.  Peter's  church,  and  sang,  in 
procession,  the  martial  psalm,  "  Let  God  arise  :  let 
His  enemies  be  scattered." 

The  Sultan  of  Mossoul  sat  in  his  magnificent  tent, 
when  his  soldiers  who  had  been  posted  nearest  Antioch 
fell  back  upon  the  camp,  and  announced  the  enemy's 
approach.  At  first  the  Sultan  could  hardly  believe 
the  report ;  and  on  being  assured  of  its  correctness,  he 
said,  "  Doubtless  they  come  to  implore  clemency." 
But  ere  long  he  became  convinced  of  his  error,  and, 
arousing  himself  from  his  Arabian  repose,  put  on  his 


92     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

arrruDr,  issued  from  his  tent,  ordered  his  trumpets  to 
sound,  and  marshalled  his  troops  for  the  conflict. 

Both  armies  having  formed  in  order  for  battle.  Cru- 
sader and  Saracen  were  soon  face  to  face,  and .  an 
awful  pause  of  a  few  minutes  gave  the  warriors  of 
Christendom  a  sight  of  the  overwhelmmg  numbers 
they  had  to  encounter.  But  nothing  could  damp  their 
enthusiasm.  They  restrained  their  zeal,  however,  till 
the  Saracens,  after  discharging  a  flight  of  arrows, 
began  the  battle  by  a  fierce  onset  ;  and  then,  givmg 
way  to  an  irresistible  impulse,  knight,  squire,  and 
groom  charged  impetuously  forward,  and,  with  a  cry 
of  "  God  wills  it !  "  which  resounded  along  the  banks 
of  the  Orontes,  swept  before  them  both  wings  of  the 
Sultan's  army. 

When  the  day  opened  so  inauspiciously  for  the 
Saracens,  the  Sultan  of  Mossoul,  who  watched  the 
conflict  from  a  hill,  must  have  been  dismayed.  But 
the  aspect  of  the  field  suddenly  changed.  The  Sultan 
of  Nice,  at  the  head  of  his  cavalry,  having  made  a 
circuit  of  the  mountains,  and  returned  by  the  river, 
attacked  the  crusaders  in  the  rear,  and  menaced  the 
reserve  with  destruction.  In  vain  did  Boemund  exert 
his  energy^  and  his  eloquence  ;  in  vain  did  Frank  and 
Norman,  Godfrey  and  Tancred,  come  to  his  aid.  The 
rush  of  Arab  cavalry,  armed  with  clubs,  bore  down  all 
opposition  ;  and  the  Sultan  of  Nice  fought  like  a  lion, 
to  avenge  his  defeats  and  retrieve  his  disasters.  No 
eflbrts  of  valor  availed  to  turn  the  tide  of  fight ;  and 
the  steindard  of  the  church  wrenched  from  the  Count 
of  Vermandois,  was  held  aloft  as  a  trophy.  But 
Aubrey  De  Vere,  cutting  his  way  to  the  sacred 
banner,  brought  it  off*  dyed  with  infidel  blood. 


THE    GREAT    BATTLE.  93 

^  While  the  Christians  struggled  against  fearful  odds, 
and  valorous  exploits  were  performed  on  both  sides, 
the  Saracens  set  fire  to  the  bushes  and  dry  grass. 
Enveloped  in  clouds  of  smoke  and  flame,  the  crusad- 
ers fell  into  confusion,  and  expressed  their  consterna- 
tion in  accents  of  despair. 

»  Where,"  they  asked, "  is  now  the  heavenly  succor 
that  was  promised  us  .?  " 

"  Behold  these  horsemen  in  white,"  cried  the  Bishop 
of  Puy,  pointing  to  a  mountain  ;  "  heaven  declares 
for  you.  The  blessed  martyrs  —  George,  Demetrius, 
and  Theodore — come  to  aid  you,  and  to  assure  you 

of  victory." 

"  God  wills  it !  "  cried  the  crusuders,  perhaps  with- 
out pausing  to  inquire  critically  into  the  truth  of  the 
prelate's  statement.^* 

.  A  rumor  that  celestial  warriors  were  at  hand  spread 
from  rank  to  rank  ;  and  the  crusaders  inspired  with  a 
notion  that  the  saints  were  domg  battle  on  their  behalf, 
renewed  the  conflict  with  fiery  enthusiasm.  Every 
crusader  fought  as  if  suddenly  gifted  with  preter- 
natural  power  ;  and  the  Saracens  disordered  by  the 
shock,  gave  way  in  dread.  The  Sultan  of  Nice  and 
other  leaders  rallied  their  broken  forces  on  an  ac- 
clivity, and,  sounding  clarions  and  trumpets,  endeav- 
ored to  renew  the  contest;  but  the  attempt  was 
abortive.  After  a  faint  resistance,  the  Saracens  gave 
way  in  terror,  and,  pursued  over  plain  and  mountain, 
fell  by  thousands  before  the  weapons  of  their  foes. 

*  "  Some,"  says  Fuller,  "  saw  St.  George  in  the  air,  with  an 
army  of  white  horses  fighting  for  them;  but  these  did  no  doubt 
look  through  the  spectacles  of  fancy." 


94      THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

The  crusaders  mounted  the  horses  of  the  slain, 
and  it  was  not  till  nightfall  that  they  drew  their  reins 
and  wiped  their  swords.  Even  then  some  continued 
the  chase  through  the  gardens  and  villages  on  the 
Orontes.  Aubrey  de  Vere  urged  on  the  pursuit 
so  keenly,  that  hours  after  sunset  he  and  his  men 
found  themselves  miles  from  Antioch,  and  in  a  locality 
with  which  they  were  unacquainted.  The  predica- 
ment caused  some  dismay  ;  but  suddenly  a  star  of 
excessive  brightness  seemed  to  light  on  De  Yere's 
shield,  and  the  phenomenon  imparted  comfort  and  hope 
to  his  followers.  An  idea  that  they  were  under  heaven's 
especial  protection  instantly  occurred  to  them  ;  and 
they  cried  with  one  voice  —  "  God  wills  our  safety !  " 
De  Vere  and  his  men  found  their  way  to  the  camp  ; 
and  Aubrey,  in  memory  of  this  adventure,  assumed  a 
star  with  streams  as  his  badge.  The  star  was  after- 
wards carried  by  the  De  Veres  when  Earls  of  Oxford  ; 
and  on  Barnet  field  it  caused  the  memorable  blunder 
that  ruined  the  army,  which,  under  Richard  Neville, 
Earl  of  Warwick,  was  struggling  against  the  estab- 
lishment of  despotism  in  England. 

Meanwhile,  the  citadel  of  Antioch  surrendered  to 
Raymond  of  Thoulouse  ;  and  the  result  of  "  The  Great 
Battle  "  caused  joy  and  rejoicing  throughout  the  city. 
Wants,  wounds,  and  woes  were  all  forgotten.  The 
victory  was  so  complete,  as  to  decide  for  a  time  the 
war  between  Christian  and  IMoslem ;  and  pilgrims, 
armed  and  unarmed,  indulged  in  a  hope,  unfelt  for 
months,  of  soon  kneeling  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  No 
serious  efforts  to  oppose  their  progress  were  likely  to 
be  made.     The  Saracens,  in   fact  had   little   faith  in 


THE    GREAT    BATTLE.  95 

their  cause ;  and  those  who  had  occupied  the  citadel, 
on  surrendering,  expressed  a  very  general  sentiment, 
when  they  exclaimed  -— ''  We  now  know  that  the  God 
of  the  Christians  must  be  the  true  God." 


1)6     THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER   XV. 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY. 

A  FEW  days  after  the  defeat  of  the  Sultan  of  Mos- 
soul,  the  pilgrim  warriors  assembled  in  a  body,  and  im- 
plored the  chiefs  of  the  crusade  to  lead  them  towards 
Jerusalem.  The  princes  and  barons,  however,  were  in 
no  humor  for  the  expedition.  The  idea  of  capturing 
a  city  and  founding  a  sovereignty  had  caught  the 
imagination  of  each  ;  and,  instead  of  encouraging  the 
pilgrims  to  proceed  towards  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  they 
used  arguments  to  damp  enthusiasm.  "  The  summer 
is  at  its  height,"  said  they,  "  and  we  have  no  horses. 
We  must  wait  till  the  season  is  cooler,  and  till  we  have 
replaced  our  war-steeds." 

The  crusaders  accordingly  remained  at  Antioch ; 
and  their  abode  in  that  fair  city  proved  unfavorable 
to  their  enterprise.  Besides  being  worried  by  disputes 
between  Boemund  and  Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  they 
were  attacked  by  an  epidemic,  to  which  fifty  thousand 
fell  victims,  among  whom  was  the  brave  and  pious 
Bishop  of  Puy. 

Even  when  summer  had  passed,  and  the  army  had 
diminished  to  fifty  thousand  men,  the  chiefs  occupied 
themselves  with  petty  enterprises,  and  wholly  neg- 
lected the  gretit  object  of  their  expedition.     Besides, 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  97 

some  of  them,  like  the  Count  of  Blois  and  the  Count 
of  Vcrmandois,  returned  to  Europe.  At  length  the 
soldiers  declared,  in  disgust,  that  they  would  elect 
new  leaders ;  and,  alarmed  at  this  threat,  Raymond  of 
Thoulouse,  in  company  with  Curthose  and  Tancred, 
took  his  way  towards  Jerusalem.  Godfrey  of  Bouillon, 
with  the  Count  of  Flanders,  speedily  followed  ;  and 
after  consuming  months  in  petty  hostilities  with  Sar- 
acens, and  in  disputes  about  the  sacred  spear,  between 
Curthose's  chaplain  —  Arnold  de  Rohes  —  and  the 
priest  of  Marseilles,  the  crusaders,  on  the  morning  of 
the  29th  of  May,  1099,  ascended  the  heights  of  Em- 
maus,  and  at  dawn  came  in  sight  of  the  Holy  City. 

*'  Jerusalem  !  "  cried  those  who  first  descried  the 
towers  and  walls. 

"  Jerusalem !  Jerusalem  !  "  shouted  all  the  pilgrims 
as  they  uncovered  their  heads  and  rushed  forward  in 
ecstacy. 

Lines  of  walls,  groups  of  massive  towers,  and  a  few 
olive  trees  rising  from  the  sterile  plain,  were  all  that 
met  the  thousands  of  arrested  eyes.  But  the  sight 
was  enough.  A  thrilling  and  sublime  emotion. per- 
vaded the  army  of  crusaders,  as  they  gazed  on  the  city 
they  had  so  earnestly  longed  to  behold ;  and  a  voice 
seemed  to  sound  in  the  ear  of  each,  saying,  "  Put  off 
thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet ;  for  the  place  whereon 
tiiou  standest  is  holy."  The  horsemen  sprung  from 
their  saddles.  Some  prostrated  themselves  and  kissed 
the  earth ;  others  walked  forward  barefoot,  and  all, 
shedding  penitential  tears,  renewed  the  vow  they  had 
made  before  leaving  Europe. 

While   the   crusaders,    animated    by  Christian  zeal, 
9 


1 


98  THE    CRirSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 

drew  near  to  Jerusalem,  a  body  of  Saracens  issued 
from  the  city  to  watch  their  movements  and  impede 
their  march.  But  Tancred,  who  had  ah'eady  planted 
the  Christian  banner  over  Bethlehem,  where  the  Re- 
deemer of  mankind  was  born,  advanced  at  the  head  of 
his  horsemen,  and  chased  them  to  the  gates.  The 
pilgrim  army  then  advanced ;  and  the  chiefs,  pre- 
paring to  commence  the  siege,  posted  their  men  to  the 
north  of  the  city,  "  being  scarcely  assaultable  on  any 
other  side,  by  reason  of  steep  and  broken  rocks." 
Godfrey,  with  his  brother  Eustace  of  Bouillon,  and 
his  kinsman  Baldwin  du  Bourg,  set  up  his  standard  in 
the  centre.  On  one  hand  of  Godfrey  encamped . 
Raymond  of  Thoulouse  ;  and,  on  the  other,  Robert 
Curthose,  the  Count  of  Flanders,  and  Edgar  Atheling, 
who,  after  seating  his  nephew  on  the  Scottish  throne, 
had  joined  the  crusaders  at  Loadicea,  with  the  flower 
of  that  noble  race  which  had  for  six  centuries  given 
kincrs  and  nobles  to  the  British  isles. 

While  the  crusaders  were  glowing  with  religious 
fervor  inspired  by  a  sight  of  the  Holy  City,  a  hermit, 
who.  had  long  lived  on  Mount  Olivet,  left  his  cell  and 
appeared  in  the  camp.  Nothing  more  than  his  pres- 
ence was  wanting  to  fire  their  zeal.  He  recommended 
them  to  make  an  immediate  assault  and  to  trust  for 
victory  to  the  aid  of  Heaven.  Chiefs  and  soldiers 
yielded  to  the  anchorite's  eloquence,  and  declared  for 
taking  the  Holy  City  by  storm. 

There  was  more  valor  than  discretion  in  all  this. 
The  crusaders,  in  fact,  had  no  machines  of  war  and 
scarcely  a  scaling-ladder.  Nevertheless,  their  enthu- 
siasm was  such    that   nobody  objected   to  the   enter- 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  99 

prise ;  and,  at  a  given  signal,  they  advanced.  While 
some,  under  cover  of  shields,  assailed  the  walls  with 
hammers  and  pikes,  others,  ranged  at  a  distance,  an- 
noved  the  defenders  of  the  city  with  slings  and  bows. 

But  the  Emir  of  Jerusalem,  whose  garrison  num- 
bered forty  thousand  men  was  in  no  yielding  mood. 
Encourafjing;  his  men,  he  ur2;ed  them  to  do  their 
utmost,  and  to  prove  themselves  worthy  of  their 
prophet.  Macliines,  placed  on  the  ramparts,  dis- 
charged every  species  of  missile  ;  and  blocks  of  stone, 
beams  of  wood,  burning  torches,  boiling  pitch,  and 
Greek  fire,  wrought  fearful  havoc.  Still  the  crusaders 
persevered,  and  the  outer  wall  fell  before  their  im- 
petuous efforts.  The  inner  wall,  however,  presented 
an  impassible  barrier.  An  escalade  was  indeed  at- 
tempted ;  but  the  crusaders,  finding  that  scarcely  one 
of  the  ladders  was  of  sufficient  lengrth  to  reach  the 
ramparts,  abandoned  the  assault  ;  and,  returning  to 
their  tents,  prepared  to  prosecute  the  siege  after  a 
more  regular  fashion. 

Unfortunately,  the  crusaders  were  in  no  position 
to  exercise  patience.  Before  their  arrival  at  Jeru- 
salem, the  Saracens  had  scoured  the  neighborhood, 
carried  everything  in  the  shape  of  provender  to  the 
city,  and  cut  off  the  supply  of  water  by  choking  up 
wells  and  poisoning  cisterns.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Kedron  was  dry  ;  the  fountain  of  Shiloe,  only  flowing 
at  intervals,  could  not  suffice  for  fifty  thousand  people  ; 
and  most  of  the  water  had  to  be  carried,  in  skins, 
from  fountains  or  rivulets  many  miles  off.  Encamped 
on  arid  plains,  and  under  a  glowing  sun,  everybody 
experienced  more  or  less  misery  ;  and  as  days  passed 


]00    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADERS. 

over,  men,  women,  and  children,  gave  way  to  de- 
spair. "  There  is  only  one  remedy  for  this  state  of 
things,"  said  the  pilgrim  princes  —  "Jerusalem  must 
be  taken." 

Luckily  ere  matters  reached  a  crisis,  the  crusaders 
received  intelligence  which  revived  their  courage. 
At  Joppa,  an  ancient  seaport,  forty  miles  from  Jeru- 
salem, some  Genoese  ships,  with  provisions  and  war- 
like stores,  and  engineers  on  board,  had  appeared. 
Joy  pervaded  the  camp  ;  and  a  troop  of  cavalry  was 
despatched  to  act  as  convoy  to  the  men  and  ammuni- 
tion. On  reaching  Joppa,  the  crusaders  found  that 
the  Genoese  fleet  had  been  destroyed  by  Saracens. 
But  the  mariners  and  engineers  having  saved  some 
provisions  and  tools,  were  conducted  in  safety  to  Jeru- 
salem. 

Nothing  but  wood  was  now  wanting  for  the  con- 
struction of  engines  of  war.  At  first  some  difficulty 
was  apprehended.  A  Syrian,  however,  presented  him- 
self to  Curthose  and  the  Count  of  Flanders,  and  con- 
ducted them  to  a  mountain,  where  trees  grew,  some 
thirty  miles  from  Jerusalem.  The  distance  proved  no 
obstacle.  The  forest  soon  resounded  with  axes ;  and 
the  trees,  when  felled,  were  drawn  to  the  camp  by 
oxen  shod  with  iron.  Meanwhile  the  machines  were 
rapidly  constructed  ;  and,  ere  long,  the  pilgrim  princes 
found  themselves  in  a  position  to  prosecute  the  siege 
with  some  prospect  of  success. 

Before  renewing  their  efforts,  however,  the  cru- 
saders, advised  by  the  Hermit  of  Mount  Olivet,  re- 
solved on  a  grand  religious  procession.  Headed  by 
the  clergy,  clad  in  white,  bearing  images,  and  singing 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  101 

psalms,  the  warriors  of  the  cross  walked  around  Jeru- 
salem, with  trumpets  sounding  and  banners  displayed. 
On  the  summit  of  Mount  Olivet,  they  halted  in  view 
of  the  city  they  had  come  to  rescue  ;  and  priests,  in 
solemn  accents,  lauded  their  zeal  and  fired  their  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  You  see  Christ's  heritage  trodden  by  the  feet  of 
infidels,"  said  Arnold  de  Rohes,  pointing  toward  the 
city ;  "  but  it  shall  soon  be  the  reward  of  your 
labors.  There  are  the  Holy  Places  in  which  God 
will  bless  all  your  victories,  and  pardon  all  your 
sins." 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Peter  the  Hermit,  "  a  few  hours 
—  and  towers,  the  last  bulwark  of  Christ's  foes,  shall 
be  the  asylum  of  Christians ;  and  mosques,  which 
stand  upon  Christian  ruins,  shall  be  temples  for  the 
true  God." 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  14th  of  July,  the 
crusaders  roused  themselves  to  action  ;  and  no  sooner 
did  day  break,  than  the  sound  of  trumpets  summoned 
them  to  arms.  All  the  engines  constructed  by  the 
Genoese  were  immediately  at  work  ;  and  the  Saracens 
perceived  with  astonishment,  and  not  without  fear, 
the  preparations  made  for  their  destruction.  They 
had  no  time,  however,  to  indulge  in  pensive  reflec- 
tions. Huge  towers  wheeled  forward,  brought  the 
crusaders  face  to  face  with  their  foes  ;  and  Christian 
fought  hand  to  hand  with  Moslem.  Godfrey  par- 
ticularly signalized  his  prowess  ;  all  the  chiefs  were 
foremost  in  the  assault ;  the  soldiers  fought  coura- 
geously and  well ;  and  even  "  women  played  the  men 
and  fought  most  valiantly  in  armor." 
9* 


102         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

The  Emir  of  Jerusalem  was  now  somewhat  daunt- 
ed. But  the  idea  of  drooping  was  out  of  the  question  ; 
and  the  Saracens  had  girded  themselves  up  for  a  des- 
perate defence.  Every  effort  was  made  to  drive  back 
the  besiegers.  Gigantic  Saracens,  on  the  ramparts, 
encountered  the  crusaders  in  the  wooden  towers ;  and 
boilmg  oil,  Greek  fire,  stones  and  beams,  were  merci- 
lessly poured  upon  those  who  assailed  the  walls.  The 
crusaders  soon  ibund  their  situation  disheartening. 
The  most  strenuous  endeavors  to  achieve  success 
failed,  and  after  an  exhausting  contest  of  twelve 
hours,  they  were  fain  to  beat  a  retreat  amid  the 
shouts  and  laughter  of  their  infidel  foes. 

"  These  Christians,"  cried  the  Saracens  jeeringly 
from  the  ramparts,  "  worship  a  God  who  cannot  aid 
them." 

"  It  seems,"  said  Curthose  to  the  Count  of  Flanders, 
as  they  retired  to  their  camp,  "  that  God  does  not  yet 
deem  us -worthy  of  entering  his  Holy  City,  and  adoring 
at  the  tomb  of  his  Son." 

The  elation  of  the  Saracens,  and  the  depression  of 
the  crusaders,  were  ephemeral.  Both,  however,  dread- 
ing a  surprise,  passed  Thursday  night  in  anxiety  and 
doubt.  The  Saracens  feared  an  assault :  the  crusaders 
feared  a  sally.  But  the  night  sped  away  without  a 
collision,  and  when  Friday  morning  came,  Moslem  and 
Christian  prepared  for  a  decisive  encounter. 

The  crusaders  by  this  time  had  a  new  motive  for 
exertion.  They  had  intercepted  a  pigeon  in  its  flight 
towards  the  city  ;  and  found  under  its  wing  a  letter, 
the  contents  of  which  caused  alarm.  Succor  in  fact, 
was  promised  without  fail  to  the  besieged  ;  and  under 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  103 

such  circumstances,  delay  was  not  to  be  thought  of  by 
the  besiegers.  While,  therefore,  the  clergy  walked  in 
procession  to  Mount  Olivet,  the  soldiers  repaired  to  the 
walls,  and  resumed  the  struggle  with  a  zeal  and  deter- 
mination still  greater  than  had  been  displayed  on  the 
previous  day. 

The  onset  was  impetuous,  and  the  shock  terrible  ; 
for  the  resistance  was  as  obstinate  as  the  assault 
was  enthusiastic.  The  besiegers  launched  stones  and 
beams  against  the  ramparts ;  the  besieged  retaliated 
with  equal  fierceness  ;  and  the  carnage  on  both  sides 
was  fearful.  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  exposed  himself  to 
every  danger,  but  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  hfe  ;  for 
though  a  mark  for  a  hundred  missiles,  he  remained 
erect  urging  on  friends  and  striking  do\vn  foes. 

It  happened  that  the  engines  constructed  by  the 
Genoese  proved  peculiarly  mahgnant  to  the  Saracens  ; 
and  alarmed  at  the  havoc  wrought,  the  besieged 
"  cased  the  outside  of  their  walls  with  bags  of  chaff, 
straw,  and  such  pliable  matter,  which  conquered  the 
engines  of  the  Christians  by  yielding  into  them." 
But  observing  that  one  huge  catapulta  continued  to 
make  alarming  ravages,  the  Saracens  conducted  two  of 
their  "  wise  women "  to  the  wall  with  the  object  of 
charming  aside  beams  and  stones.  Neither  word  nor 
spell,  however,  produced  the  slightest  effect.  The 
catapulta  was  no  respecter  of  persons  ;  and  the  unfor- 
tunate witches  perishing  miserably,  furnished  the  Sar- 
acens with  fresh  evidence  of  its  destructive  powers. 

But  noon  passed,  afternoon  was  speeding  away, 
and  evening  was  drawing  near,  and  still  the  crusaders 
made  little  progress  ;    and  at  length  the  Greek  fire, 


104    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

setting  their  machines  in  a  blaze,  reduced  them  to 
despondency ;  while  the  Saracens,  pointing  to  the 
heaps  of  besiegers  slain  at  the  foot  of  the  ramparts, 
uttered  loud  and  taunting  cries.  At  the  moment,  how- 
ever, when  the  crusaders,  fatigued  with  the  weight  of 
their  armor,  covered  with  dust  and  oppressed  with 
heat,  leant  on  their  swords  and  gave  way  to  despair, 
a  horseman  waving  a  buckler,  appeared  on  Mount 
Olivet. 

"  Behold,"  cried  Godfrey,  "  St.  George  has  come 
again  to  our  aid,  and  makes  a  signal  for  us  to  enter 
the  Holy  City." 

"  God  wills  it !  "  cried  the  crusaders,  as  they  re- 
turned with  one  accord,  to  the  assault. 

And  now  before  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  was  re- 
kindled that  fieiy  zeal,  Avhich  had  swept  Mossoul's 
Sultan  and  his  soldiery  from  the  plains  of  Antioch. 
Not  even  warriors  of  the  highest  patriotism  and 
chivalry  —  not  the  victors  of  Cressy  or  Agincourt, 
could  have  Ions;  resisted  men  who  fought  with  a  belief 
that  the  saints  were  doins;  battle  in  their  behalf 
Every  eye  glanced  with  religious  fervor,  and  every 
arm  struck  with  supernatural  prowess.  Pious  frenzy 
rendered  the  armed  pilgrims  irresistible.  Amid  clouds 
of  flame,  and  smok&,  and  dust,  Godfrey,  preceded  by 
Reimbault  Cretan,  who  appears  first  to  have  footed 
the  walls,  entered  the  city  ;  and  Eustace  of  Bouillon, 
with  a  host  of  warriors,  followed  with  shouts  of 
victory.  Curthose  and  the  Count  of  Flanders,  aware 
of  the  success  of  their  comrades,  redoubled  every 
effort,  and  scaled  the  walls  sword  in  hand.  Raymond 
of  Thoulouse,  opposed  to  the   Emir  of  Jerusalem  in 


SIEGE    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  105 

person,  met  with  a  sturdy  resistance  ;  but,  disdaining 
all  danger,  the  aged  Count  leaped  from  his  wooden 
tower  to  the  ramparts  —  Saracens  bearing  back  at  the 
i  sound  of  his  war-cry,  and  the  Emir  flying  before  the 
sweep  of  his  sword. 

Jerusalem  now  resounded  with  loud  cries  of  ven- 
geance. The  conquerors,  under  a  delusion  that  they 
were  rendering  God  service,  slaughtered  without 
mercy  the  enemies  of  their  religion.  Thousands 
upon  thousands  of  the  vanquished  fell  ;  and  lor  days 
the  blood  of  Saracens,  old  and  young,  flowed  like 
water."* 

While  swords  were  clashino;  and  blood  was  flowino;, 
Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  leaving  the  scene  of  carnage, 
laying  down  his  sword,  uncovering  his  head,  and 
baring  his  feet,  walked  in  a  posture  of  humility  to  the 
church  of  the  Resurrection,  and  prostrated  himself  on 
the  tomb  of  Christ.  On  hearing  of  the  pious  chief's 
act  of  devotion,  the  crusaders  hastened  to  follow  his 
example  :  and,  preceded  by  the  clergy,  walked  in 
solemn  procession,  singing  penitential  psalms  and 
songs  of  thanksgiving. 

Ere  this  ceremony  was  over,  the  Christians  in 
Jerusalem  emerged  from  places  of  concealment,  and 
advanced  to  meet  their  deliverers.  The  spectacle 
touched  every  heart,  and  brought  tears  to  every  eye. 
But  from  among  princes  and  peers  they  singled  out 

*  "  If  you  wish  to  know  what  we  did  to  the  enemies  we 
found  in  the  city,  learn  that  in  the  portico  of  Solomon  and  in 
the  Temple,  our  horses  walked  up  to  the  knees  in  the  impure 
blood  of  Saracens."— Z.c//cr  of  ike  Pihjrim  Princes  to  the 
Pope. 


106  THE    CEirSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEES. 

the  figure  of  the  Httle  man,  clad  in  the  woollen  mantle, 
who  five  j^ears  before  had  walked  wildly  about  the 
Holy  City,  busying  his  brain  with  projects  for  their 
rehef.  It  was  Peter  the  Hermit  whom  they  regarded 
as  their  liberator  ;  and,  crowding  around  him,  they 
expressed  boundless  astonishment  that  one  man  should 
have  been  able  to  rouse  so  many  nations,  and  to  work 
so  mighty  a  deliverance. 


BOOK   SECOND. 


THE   KINGDOM    OF   JERUSALEM 


CHAPTER  I. 


GODmEY    AXD    HIS    SUCCESSORS. 

Ox  the  23d  of  July,  1099,  Jerusalem  witnessed  an 
impressive  ceremony.  On  that  day,  the  crusaders, 
who,  a  week  earlier,  had  entered  the  Holy  City  sword 
in  hand,  assembled  for  the  purpose  of  electing  one  of 
the  pilgrim  princes  as  king.  Owing  to  the  paucity  of 
candidates  for  regal  honors,  the  duty  does  not  appear 
to  have  been  very  perplexing.  It  is  true,  that  the 
names  of  Robert  Curthose,  Robert  of  Flanders,  Ray- 
mond of  Thoulouse,  and  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  were 
bruited  about.  But  Curthose  and  the  Flemish  Count 
intimated  their  intention  of  returning  forthwith  to 
Europe  ;  and  the  Count  of  Thoulouse  having,  by  his 
haughty  and  impracticable  temper,  rendered  himself 
unpopular,  Godfrey  was  generally  recognized  as  the 
most  likely  man  to  dignify  the  office. 

Nevertheless,  difficulties  appear  to  have  arisen  ; 
and  the  crusaders,  to  terminate  disputes,  appointed 
ten  of  the  most  sober  and  discreet  pilgrims  to  decide 

[107] 


108  TUE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

on  the  rival  claims.  After  fasting  and  praying,  these 
personages  proceeded  to  the  work  of  election,  and 
closely  inquired  into  the  character  of  the  candidates. 
Even  servants  were  examined  as  to  the  habits  of 
their  masters  !  and  those  of  Godfrey  gave  such  evi- 
dence as  to  his  religious  devotion  as  was  deemed  con- 
clusive. 

"  What  faults  have  you  observed  in  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine  ?  "  asked  the  council. 

"  The  only  fault  we  find  with  our  master,"  an- 
swered the  witnesses,  "  is,  that  when  matins  are  over, 
he  will  stay  so  long  in  chiirch  to  learn  the  name  of 
every  image  and  picture,  that  dinner  is  often  spoiled 
by  his  long  tarrying." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  council,  "  as  this  man's  worst  vice 
appears  to  us  a  great  virtue,  Jerusalem  could  not 
have  a  better  sovereign." 

The  nomination  of  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  was  ac- 
cordmgly  decided  on ;  and  when  heralds  proclaimed 
his  name,  the  liveliest  joy  pervaded  the  city.  The 
successful  candidate  expressed  his  sense  of  the  dis- 
tinction conferred  on  him ;  but,  with  pious  modesty, 
he  declined  the  symbols  of  regal  power.  "  I  cannot 
consent,"  he  said,  "  to  wear  a  crown  of  gold,  where 
the  Saviour  of  mankind  wore  a  crown  of  thorns." 
Godfrey  contented  himself  with  the  title  of  "  First 
Baron  and  Defender  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ;  "  but  he 
was  invested  with  sovereign  authority,  and  was,  in 
reality,  as  much  a  king  as  any  man  could  have  been 
under  tlie  circumstances. 

Immediately  after  the  election  of  Godfrey,  the 
pilgrim  princes  attended  him  in  triumph  to  the  church 


GODFREY    AXD    HIS    SUCCESSORS.  109 

of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ;  and  the  pious  warrior  there 
took  an  oath  to  rule  according  to  the  laws  of  honor 
and  justice.  Scarcely,  however,  was  the  ceremony 
over,  when  startling  intelligence  reached  Jerusalem. 
It  appeared,  in  fact,  that  a  mighty  army  had  arrived 
at  Ascalon,  bent  on  giving  the  crusaders  battle  ;  and 
that  the  Moslem  host  was  under  the  command  of  the 
Emir  Afdhal,  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  Moslem 
warriors. 

The  news  spread  terror  throughout  Jerusalem. 
Indeed,  it  was  known  that  the  Emir  had  sworn,  in 
presence  of  the  Caliph,  to  annihilate  the  crusaders, 
and  it  was  feared  that  he  might  have  the  power  to 
execute  his  oath.  Godfrey,  however,  was  undaunted. 
Without  delay  he  summoned  all  Christians  capable  of 
bearing  arms  to  march  with  him  from  Jerusalem  ;  and 
requested  Arnold  de  Rohes,  recently  elected  as  Pa- 
triarch, to  accompany  the  army  with  the  wood  of  the 
true  cross.  At  first,  Curthose  and  Raymond  of  Thou- 
louse,  declaring  that  their  vow  was  accomplished, 
exhibited  indifference,  and  expressed  their  opinion 
that  no  army  was  approaching.  But  both,  on  being 
assured  of  the  danger,  summoned  their  men,  girded  on 
their  mail,  mounted  their  chargers,  and  marched  with 
Godfrey  to  meet  the  foe. 

While  women  and  sick  men  remained  in  Jerusalem, 
under  the  auspices  of  Peter  the  Hermit  and  the  clergy, 
who  offered  up  prayers  day  and  night,  for  the  success 
of  the  Christian  arms,  Godfrey,  having  at  the  head  of 
the  crusaders  marched  across  a  sandy  country,  halted, 
on  the  evening  of  the  11th  of  August,  by  the  margin 
of  the  Sorec,  a  little  torrent  flowing  through  a  plain 
10 


110    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

between  the  cities  of  Joppa  and  Ascalon.  While 
encamped  there,  at  evening,  the  crusaders  suddenly 
perceived  at  some  distance  what  appeared  to  them  an 
armed  multitude,  and  two  hundred  horsemen  spurred 
out  to  reconnoitre.  On  returning  they  reported  that 
what  looked  like  an  army  was,  in  reality,  a  huge  drove 
of  cattle  and  camels,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  cross 
intimated  their  desire  to  seize  so  valuable  a  booty. 
Godfrey,  however,  restrained  them.  "  I  see  nothing 
in  this,"  said  he,  "  but  a  stratagem  of  the  enemy  to 
throw  us  into  disorder.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  no  man 
will  leave  his  ranks." 

Events  soon  vindicated  the  wisdom  of  Godfrey's 
admonition.  As  evening  advanced,  news  reached  the 
camp  that  the  Saracens  were  then  within  three 
leagues,  and  awaiting  a  favorable  opportunity  to  at- 
tack. The  crusading  chief's  then  formed  their  soldiers 
into  nine  divisions,  and  having  kept  them  under  arms 
all  night,  prepared,  at  daybreak,  for  a  decisive  en- 
counter. The  Patriarch,  after  carrying  the  cross 
through  the  ranks,  and  blessing  the  whole  army, 
gave  the  signal  for  marching.  The  crusaders,  fully 
armed,  fell  on  their  knees,  imploring  Heaven's  aid  in 
the  battle,  and  then,  rising  with  fresh  ardor,  advanced 
in  order.  As  they  did  so  the  droves  of  camels  and 
oxen,  seen  on  the  previous  evening,  fell  into  their  rear 
and  followed  their  movements. 

Meanwhile  the   Emir  Afdhal    set    the    Saracens   in 
order  of  battle  on  the  verge  of  the  plain  of  Ascalon. 
To  the   west   of  the    Saracens,  and    situated    on   the- 
coast,  was  the  city,  over  which  the  Moslem  banners 
waved  ;  and  to  the  east  and  west  were  the  sea  and 


GODrREY    AXD    HIS    SUCCESSORS.  Ill 

mountains  which  protected  their  rear.  Afdhal's  army, 
which  was  infinitely  more  numerous  than  that  of  the 
crusaders,  was  arranged,  hke  theirs,  in  two  lines,  and 
was  most  formidable  in  appearance.  The  Emir  occu- 
pied a  position  in  the  centre  ;  and  did  all  that  a  brave 
man  could  to  animate  his  troops  to  do  their  duty. 

Everything  now  seemed  to  promise  Afdhal  victory, 
but  a  sudden  terror  seized  the  Saracens  at  the  sight  of 
the  Christian  army.  In  fact,  the  droves  of  cattle  fol- 
lowing the  crusaders,  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion 
and  clouds  of  dust,  appeared  like  so  many  squadrons 
of  horse.  The  Saracens,  completely  deceived,  be- 
lieved that  multitudes  of  Christians  had  arrived  from 
Europe,  and  that  the  crusaders  were  more  numerous 
than  they.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  Emir  endeavored 
to  dispel  the  delusion  and  restore  the  courage  of  his 
troops.     They  were  quite  crestfallen. 

While  the  Saracens  were  in  dismay  and  doubt, 
Robert  Curthose,  at  the  head  of  the  European  cavalry, 
broke  their  ranks,  and  penetrating  to  their  centre, 
overthrew  all  who  opposed,  captured  the  Moslem 
standard,  and  put  Afdhal  himself  in  no  small  jeo- 
pardy ;  and  the  European  infantry,  following  in  the 
track  of  Curthose,  and  casting  away  javelin  and  bow, 
wielded  their  swords  with  terrible  effect.  On  all 
sides  the  Saracens  were  thrown  into  disorder,  in 
vain  did  a  band  of  Ethiopians,  who  first  placed  one 
knee  on  the  ground  to  launch  javelins,  and  then 
sprung  up  with  long  flails,  armed  with  balls  of  iron, 
attempt  to  turn  the  fortune  of  the  day.  Yielding 
before  the  lances  of  Godfrey  and  his  knights,  the 
Ethiopians    dispersed  ;    and    the    Saracens,    flying    in 


112         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CTitJSADERS. 

masses,  were  so  hotly  pursued,  that  many  perislied  in 
the  sea,  and  thousands  were  crushed  to  death  on  the 
drawbridge,  wliile  attempting  to  find  an  asylum  in 
Ascalon.  Afdhal,  after  leaving  his  sword  on  the  field, 
narrowly  escaped  to  the  city ;  and,  viewing  the  de- 
struction of  his  army  from  the  walls  he  shed  tears 
of  anger  and  cursed  Mahomet  for  deserting  faithful 
disciples. 

Afdhal  embarked  for  Egypt,  not  believing  himself 
to  be  safe  in  Ascalon.  Indeed,  the  crusaders  might, 
with  little  difficulty,  have  made  themselves  masters  of 
that  city,  but  for  an  unfortunate  quarrel  between 
Godfrey  and  Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  which  was  nearly 
producing  fatal  consequences.  As  it  was,  the  cru- 
saders, loaded  with  booty  and  followed  by  the  droves 
of  cattle,  marched  in  triumph  to  Jerusalem. 

After  the  battle  of  Ascalon,  most  of  the  pilgrim 
princes  prepared  to  depart  from  the  Holy  City.  Ray- 
mond of  Thoulouse,  who  had  sworn  never  to  return 
to  the  west,  repaired  to  Constantinople,  and  received 
from  the  Emperor  a  grant  of  the  city  of  Laodicea. 
Eustace  of  Bouillon,  brother  of  Godfrey,  and  Robert, 
Count  of  Flanders,  repaired  to  Europe,  and  taking 
possession  of  their  hereditary  estates,  passed  their 
lives  in  peace  and  prosperity.  Curthose  was  less 
fortunate.  He,  indeed,  reached  Normandy  and  took 
possession  of  his  dukedom  ;  but  some  years  later,  his 
territory  was  invaded  by  his  younger  brother,  Henry, 
King  of  England ;  and  Curthose,  vanquished  and 
taken  at  Tenchebray,  was  conveyed  to  Cardiff  Castle, 
and  kept  as  a  state  prisoner  till  1148,  when,  at  an 
advanced  age,  he  terminated  a  life  of  misery  and  woe. 


GODFREY    AND    HIS    SUCCESSORS.  113 

Like  the  pilgrim  princes,  Peter  the  Hermit  con- 
sidered his  work  accomplished  when  the  Holy  Se- 
pulchre was  rescued.  While  on  his  homeward  voyage, 
in  company  with  a  nobleman,  Peter  found  himself  in 
danger  of  shipwreck,  and  vowed  if  saved  to  build  an 
abbey  in  honor  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Escaping 
the  peril,  he  founded  a  monastery  on  the  banks  of  the 
Maes,  and  lived  there  for  many  years  in  humble 
penitence.* 

After  the  departure  of  his  comrades-in-arms,  God- 
frey was  left  with  a  few  hundred  knights  to  defend 
the  Holy  City  and  the  kingdom,  which  so  much  blood 
and  valor  had  been  expended  to  gain.  But  the 
wisdom  and  heroism  of  the  man  rendered  him  almost 
equal  to  the  task  ;  and  he  had  little  doubt  of  receiving 
important  aid  from  Europe.  Indeed,  those  who  had. 
left  the  army  of  crusaders,  and  returned  home  without 
taking  part  in  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  were  accused  of 
cowardice  ;  and  both  the  Count  of  Blois  and  the 
Count  of  Vermandois,  who  had  deserted  the  pilgrim 
army  at  Antioch,  found  themselves  in  such  bad  odor, 
that  they  resolved  on  a  new  expedition.  But  of  the 
multitude  of  crusaders  who  left  Europe  under  their 
guidance,  not  more  than  a  handful  ever  reach  Jeru- 
salem ;  and  the  Count  of  Vermandois,  attacked  and 
defeated,  fled  to  Tarsus,  where  he  died  of  his  wounds. 

Godfrey  did  not  survive  to  learn  the  fate  of  these 
pilgrims.     He  lived  long  enough,  however,  to  do  much 

*   "  Several  families,"  says  Michaud,  "  have  pretended  to  be 
descended  from  Peter  the  Hermit.     The  most  rational  and  best 
supported  claim  is  that  of  the  family  of  Souliers,  which  still 
exists  in  the  Limousin.'-  — JVote  to  History  of  the  Crusades. 
10* 


114         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

good  —  to  extend  the  frontiers  of  his  kingdom  —  to 
divide  the  conquered  lands  among  tlie  companions  of 
his  victories  and  to  promulgate  the  code  of  legisla- 
tion known  as  the  "  Assizes  of  Jerusalem." 

It  happened  that  Tancred,  having  been  sent  into 
Galilee,  was  successful  in  taking  Tiberias  and  other 
cities.  Placed  in  possession  of  the  country  he  had 
conquered,  Tancred  attacked  the  territories  of  the 
Sultan  of  Damascus,  and  the  Sultan  not  unnaturally 
retaliated. 

When  informed  of  Tancred's  danger,  Godfrey 
marched  to  his  assistance  ;  and  he  had  succeeded  in 
defeating  the  Saracens,  and  set  out  on  his  return  to 
Jerusalem,  when  he  was  met  by  the  Emir  of  Ceserea. 
The  Emir  presented  an  offering  of  the  fruit  of  the 
country,  and  Godfrey,  by  way  of  courtesy,  accepted  a 
cedar  apple.  He  had  scarcely  eaten  this,  however, 
when  he  suddenly  became  sick  ;  and  his  knights  in 
alarm  conveyed  him  to  Joppa.  At  Joppa  Godfrey 
grew  worse  and  worse  ;  and  on  the  18th  of  July,  1100, 
after  committing  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem  to  the 
companions  of  his  victories,  he  breathed  his  last. 
Having  been  carried  to  the  Holy  City,  and  borne  up 
the  ascent  of  Calvary,  the  remains  of  Godfrey  were 
laid  near  the  Sepulchre  which  he  had  rescued  from 
desecration  ;  and  his  death  was  mourned  by  the  Chris- 
tians whom  he  had  freed  from  oppression. 

Immediately  after  Godfrey  was  laid  at  rest  on 
Mount  Calvary,  the  Patriarch  and  the  Barons  of  Jeru- 
salem engaged  in  disputes  as  to  the  choice  of  a  prince 
to  occupy  the  throne,  which  the  death  of  Godfrey  had 
rendered  vacant.     The   Patriarch,  claiming  the  crown 


GODFREY    AND    HIS    SUCCESSORS.  115 

as  his  owTi,  sent  messengers  to  Boemund  of  Antioch 
to  come  and  defend  the  cause  of  the  church.  The 
Barons,  denying  the  Patriarch's  right,  despatched  depu- 
ties to  Baldwin  of  Edessa,  asking  him  to  take  posses- 
sion of  his  brother's  throne.  The  messengers  sent 
to  Antioch  returned  with  intelligence,  that  Boemund 
had  been  made  prisoner  while  on  an  expedition  against 
the  Turks.  Tlie  deputies  despatched  to  Edessa, 
brought  back  the  assurance  that  Baldwm  would  ere 
long  appear  at  Jerusalem  to  take  possession  of  the 
crown. 

The  prize  was  not  particularly  tempting ;  for 
Baldwin  was  master  of  a  rich  and  mamificent  ter- 
ritory.  But  his  ambition  was  fired  with  the  prospect 
of  figuring  as  a  king ;  and,  making  over  Edessa  to 
his  kinsman,  Baldwin  du  Bourg,  he  set  out  for  Jeru- 
salem at  the  head  of  fourteen  hundred  men.  On 
reaching  the  Holy  City,  the  brother  of  Godfrey  was 
welcomed  with  enthusiasm  by  the  inhabitants  ;  and 
the  Patriarch,  though  he  at  first  held  aloof,  gradually 
came  to  reason,  and  at  length  consented  to  perform 
the  ceremony  of  coronation. 

Baldwin  was  well  qualified  to  extend  the  limits  of 
the  Christian  kin2;dom.  No  sooner  was  he  recoo-nized 
as  sovereign  of  Jerusalem,  than  he  signalized  his 
capacity  as  a  warrior  by  expeditions  against  the  Sara- 
cens, and  with  such  success  as  astonished  his  adver- 
saries. City  after  chy  yielded  1o  his  arms  ;  and  as 
monuments  of  his  genius  as  a  conqueror,  he  could  soon 
point  to  Ceserea  and  Sidon,  TripoU  and  Acre,  all 
destined  to  be  more  or  less  important  in  the  struggles 
for  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 


116  THE    CHUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Baldwin  was  not  blessed  with  heirs  ;  and  when  he 
died,  his.  kinsman,  Baldwin  du  Bourg,  happening  to 
visit  Jerusalem  at  the  time,  was  elected  king  and 
placed  on  the  vacant  throne.  Baldwin,  resigning  the 
principality  of  Antioch  to  Joceline  de  Courtenay,  re- 
ceived the  crown  of  Godfrey,  carried  on  war  with  the 
Saracens,  and  succeeded  in  winning  the  favor  and 
maintaining  the  interests  of  his  subjects.  Most  of  the 
pilgrim  princes  who  had  rescued  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
and  won  for  themselves  principalities,  had  disappeared. 
Raymond  of  Thoulouse,  after  wandering  over  the 
East,  had  fallen  while  besieging  Tripoli,  which  was 
afterwards  bestowed  on  his  descendants.  Boemund, 
after  attempting  to  realize  his  youthful  aspirations  and 
making  war  on  the  Empire  of  Constantinople,  returned 
to  Tarentum,  and,  in  that  little  state,  died  of  despon- 
dency and  despair.  Tancred,  while  governing  Antioch 
during  the  minority  of  Boemund's  son,  Avas  killed  when 
engaged  in  war  with  the  Saracens.  Baldwin  du  Bourg, 
therefore  was  respected  in  no  small  degree,  as  about 
the  last  of  the  companions  of  Godfrey. 

While  Baldwin  occupied  the  throne,  Fulke,  Count 
of  Anjou,  with  a  notion  of  consoling  himself  for  the 
loss  of  a  wife  to  whom  he  had  been  devotedly  attached, 
resolved  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Palestine.  Leaving  his 
county  to  his  son  Geoffrey,  the  ancestor  of  the  Planta- 
genets,  Fulke  appeared  at  Jerusalem,  and  won  general 
admiration  by  the  qualities  he  displayed.  Baldwin, 
pleased  with  Fulke,  offered  the  illustrious  pilgrim  the 
hand  of  his  eldest  daughter  ;  and  Fulke,  accepting 
the  proposal  with  joy,  espoused  Millicent,  the  heiress 
of  Jerusalem, 


GODFREY    AND    HIS    SUCCESSORS.  117 

Soon  after  the  marriage  of  his  daughter,  Baldwin 
expired  ;  and  Fulke,  as  husband  of  Milhcent,  was 
crowned  King  of  Jerusalem.  But  one  day,  while 
hunting  on  the  plains  of  Acre,  he  was  killed  by  a 
fall  from  his  horse  ;  and  his  son  Baldwin  succeeded  to 
the  throne. 

It  was  now  that  the  Christian  states  in  Asia  gave 
evident  symptoms  of  that  decline,  which,  in  spite  of 
all  efforts  to  avert  their  fate,  gradually  brought  them 
to  their  melancholy  catastrophe.  Baldwin  the  Thiid 
was  a  boy  of  thirteen  when  his  father  died  :  and  he 
began  to  reign  under  the  auspices  of  his  mother.  Bald- 
win was  a  youth  of  high  courage,  and  Millicent  a  woman 
of  masculine  spirit.  But  the  kingdom  of  Godfrey 
was  in  no  condition  to  be  defended  by  a  woman  and 
a  boy;  and,  ere  long,  the  conquest  by  a  Moslem 
chief,  of  one  of  the  most  important  principalities  won 
by  the  pilgrim  princes,  made  the  Christians  of  the 
East  turn  imploringly  for  aid  to  the  warriors  of  the 
West. 


118    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    II. 


THE    PALL    OF    EDESSA. 


Whex  Baldwin  du  Boiirg  surrendered  the  sover- 
eignty of  Edessa  to  ascend  the  throne  of  Jerusalem, 
one  of  the  barons  to  whom  he  owed  his  elevation  was 
Joceline  de  Courtenay. 

The  circumstance  was  calculated  to  cause  some 
surprise  :  for  Baldwin  and  Joceline  were  not  supposed 
to  be  on  the  most  friendly  terms.  Indeed,  Joceline, 
after  being  in  other  days  loaded  with  favors  by  Bald- 
win, had  manifested  so  little  gratitude,  that  he  was 
expelled  by  his  patron  from  the  Euphrates,  and  com- 
pelled to  take  refuge  at  Jerusalem.  But  when  Bald- 
win became  a  candidate  for  the  regal  dignity,  all  quar- 
rels appeared  to  be  forgotten  :  and  when  Baldwin 
placed  the  crown  of  Jerusalem  on  his  head,  Joceline 
was  gifted  with  the  principality  of  Edessa. 

For  many  years  Joceline  de  Courtenay  maintained 
feudal  state  at  Edessa,  and  constant  war  with  the  in- 
fidels on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates.  Even  time  did 
not  tame  his  warlike  energy :  and,  in  old  age,  he  con- 
tinued terrible  to  the  enemies  of  his  faith.  One  day, 
however,  while  besieging  a  fortress  near  Aleppo,  the 
old  warrior  was  crushed  beneath  the  ruins,  and  drag- 


THE    FALL    OF    EDESSA.  119 

ged  out  in  so  bruised  a  condition,  that  no  hope  was 
entertained  of  his  recovery.  Conveyed  to  Edessa, 
and  placed  on  a  couch,  he  there  calmly  awaited  the 
destroyer,  whom  he  had  often  defied  in  the  ranks  of 
battle. 

While  Joceline  was  passing  his  last  hours  wearily  at 
Edessa,  he  received  inteUigence  that  the  Saracens  were 
besieging  one  of  his  strongholds,  and  sent  for  the  heir 
of  his  name  and  his  dominions. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  aged  warrior,  "  go  instantly  and 
attack  the  foe." 

"  I  fear,"  said  young  Josceline,  "  that  we  have  not 
men  enough  to  encounter  the  enemy." 

hidignant  that,  under  such  circumstances,  a  son  of 
his  should  talk  of  fear,  and  determined  to  show  a 
great  example,  the  dying  man  caused  himself  to  be 
placed  on  a  litter,  and  carried  at  the  head  of  his 
soldiers.  On  the  way  he  was  informed  that  the 
Saracens  had  retired  from  the  siege,  and  smiled 
grimly,  as  if  gratified  at  the  terror  associated  with  his 
name.  Next  moment  he  ordered  the  htter  to  stop  ; 
and  he  expired  amid  his  soldiers,  while  his  eyes  turned 
towards  heaven,  as  if  rendering  thanks  for  the  flight 
of  his  enemies. 

The  defence  of  Edessa  now  devolved  upon  the  son 
of  the  departed  hero  ;  but  young  Joceline  was  by  no 
means  equal  to  the  duty.  From  boyhood  he  had  been 
addicted  to  dissipation  ;  and  no  sooner  did  the  grave 
close  over  his  father,  than  he  took  up  his  abode  on  the 
Euphrates,  and  indulged  his  inclinations  without  stint. 
In  a  delicious  retreat  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  he 
pursued  a  thorough  system  of  debauchery,  and  neg- 


120         THE    CRUSADES    AN^D    THE    CRUSADERS. 

lected  every  measure  essential  for  the  security  of  the 
principality. 

I\Ieanwhile  a  Moslem  warrior,  named  Sanguin,  who 
had  obtained  the  principality  of  BIossoul,  with  Aleppo 
and  other  Syrian  cities,  cast  his  eyes  longingly  on 
Edessa,  and  only  awaited  a  favorable  opportunity 
of  taking  the  city.  The  prize  was  tempting  to  an 
ambitious  soldier  ;  and  the  walls  had,  from  neglect, 
become  so  frail,  that  no  formidable  opposition  was  ap- 
prehended. 

Joceline  was  still  occupied  with  his  debaucheries, 
when  one  day  startled  with  mtelligence  that  Sanguin 
had  appeared  before  the  city  with  a  formidable  army, 
with  his  nerves  in  disorder  and  his  ideas  m  con- 
fusion, the  youthful  prince  scarcely  knew  on  which 
side  to  turn.  In  extreme  perplexity,  he  sent  to  the 
Queen  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Prince  of  Antioch,  ex- 
plainmg  his  danger,  and  imploring  aid.  But  no  one 
was  in  a  position  to  attend  to  the  application  ;  and  the 
Christians  of  the  East  soon  learned,  that,  after  pres- 
sing the  siege  for  a  month,  the  Saracens  had  entered 
Edessa  as  conquerors,  and  put  the  inhabitants  to  the 
sword. 

Soon  after  having  captured  Edessa,  Sanguin,  whose 
pride  success  had  elevated  to  the  highest  pitch, 
perished  by  the  hands  of  slaves  whom  he  had  op- 
pressed ;  and  Joceline  de  Courtenay,  rousing  himself 
from  slothful  indulgence,  buckled  on  his  armor  to 
regain  his  inheritance.  Fortune  seemed  to  smile  on 
Joceline's  efforts.  Availing  himself  of  the  confusion 
consequent  on  Sanguin's  assassination,  he  led  his  men 
to  Edessa  in  the  darkness  of  night,  and  succeeded  in 


THE    FALL    OF    EDESSA.  121 

re-taklng  the  city.  But  unhappily  he  was  less  for- 
tunate in  regard  to  the  citadel  ;  and  when  Noureddin, 
the  son  of  Sanguin,  unexpectedly  arrived  before  the 
walls,  the  Christians  found  themselves  in  a  desperate 
situation  between  the  garrison  and  the  besiegers. 

Joceline  and  his  friends  now  perceived  that  their 
plight  was  the  reverse  of  enviable.  There  appeared, 
indeed,  no  hope  of  safety  but  in  flight,  and  they  re- 
solved to  fly.  At  midnight,  accordingly,  the  gates 
were  thrown  open  ;  and  the  Christians,  issuing  forth 
in  silence,  endeavored  to  escape.  But  few  were 
fortunate  enough  to  accomplish  their  object.  A  sig- 
nal made  by  the  garrison  roused  the  besiegers  to 
arms ;  and  the  soldiers  of  Noureddin,  rushing  to  the 
gates,  intercepted  the  fugitives,  and  cut  them  down 
without  mercy.  Some  thousands  of  warriors,  closing 
their  ranks,  forced  a  passage  through  the  Saracen 
host ;  but,  pursued  towards  the  Euphrates,  they  fell  in 
heaps.  Only  a  handful  reached  the  abode  of  friends 
to  tell  that  the  Christians  of  Edessa  were  slaughtered, 
and  that  citadel  and  city  remained  in  the  possession  of 
the  foe. 

The  conquerors  of  Edessa  used  their  victory  with- 
out mercy,  and  without  forbearance.  Thirty  thousand 
Christians  are  said  to  have  perished  by  the  swords  of 
the  Moslems ;  many  thousands  more  were  carried 
into  slavery ;  and  even  the  walls,  the  towers,  and  the 
churches  were  razed  to  the  ground. 

Joceline  de   Courtenay,  after  the  loss  of  his  pruici- 
pality,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Saracens  ;  and,  having 
been  carried  captive  to  Aleppo,  died  there  ui  misery, 
in  prison,  and  in  chains. 
11 


122  THE    CRUSADES    A2JD    THE    CRUSADEES. 


CHAPTER    III. 


THE  PREACHING  OF  ST.  BERNARD. 

In  the  year  1137,  when  England  was  entering  on 
that  dynastic  war,  between  Stephen  and  the  Empress 
Maud,  which  terminated  in  the  accession  of  the  Plan- 
tagenets  to  the  throne,  Louis  the  Sixth,  after  having 
governed  France  for  thirty  years,  with  credit  to  him- 
self £ind  advantage  to  his  kingdom,  departed  this  life 
at  Paris.  When  prostrated  on  his  uneasy  couch,  the 
dying  king  gave  his  heir  that  kind  of  advice,  which 
comes  so  solemnly  from  the  lips  of  a  man  whose  soul 
is  going  to  judgment.  "  Pemember,"  said  he,  "  that 
royalty  is  a  public  trust,  for  the  exercise  of  which  a 
rigorous  account  will  be  exacted  by  Him  who  has  the 
sole  disposal  of  crowns." 

Louis  the  Young,  to  whom  this  admonition  was  ad- 
dressed, ascended  the  French  throne  when  scarcely 
more  than  eighteen,  and  espoused  Eleanor,  daughter 
of  the  Duke  of  Aquitaine.  The  King,  who  had  been 
educated  with  great  care,  gave  promise  of  rivalling 
the  policy  and  prowess  of  his  father ;  and  the  young 
Queen,  besides  being  endowed  by  fortune  with  a  mag- 
nificent duchy,  had  been  gifted  by  nature  with  rare 
beauty  and  intellect.  Everything  prognosticated  a 
prosperous  future. 


THE    PREACHING    OF    ST.  BERNAKD.  123 

Scarcely,  however,  had  Louis  taken  the  reins  of 
government,  than  the  prospect  was  clouded  by  the  in- 
subordhiation  of  the  Count  of  Champagne  and  the 
pretensions  of  the  Pope.  Louis,  not  daunted  by  the 
league  which  they  formed,  mounted  his  war-horse  and 
set  out  to  maintain  his  authority.  But  the  expedition 
terminated  in  a  tragical  event,  which  seemed  to 
change  the  King's  nature.  While  besieging  Vitey, 
he  cruelly  set  fire  to  a  church,  in  which  the  inhab- 
itants had  taken  refuge  :  and  having  burned  the  edi- 
fice, with  thirteen  hundred  human  beings  within  its 
walls,  he  experienced  such  remorse,  that  for  some 
time  afterwards,  he  had  hardly  courage  sufiicient  to 
look  upon  the  face  of  day. 

The  tragical  scene  was  ever  present  to  the  young 
King's  memory  ;  and  while  still  brooding  painfully  over 
the  crime,  news  of  the  fall  of  Edessa  reached  France. 
The  idea  of  pacifying  his  conscience  by  a  new  cru- 
sade immediately  occurred  ;  and  an  assembly  of  ba- 
rons and  bishops  was  summoned  to  consider  the  project. 
This  assembly  submitted  the  propriety  of  such  an 
enterprise  to  the  Pope  ;  and  the  Pope,  after  expressing 
approval,  confided  to  St.  Bernard  the  preaching  of  a 
new  crusade. 

Bernard,  who  was  then  Abbot  of  Clairvaux,  and  at 
the  height  of  his  fame,  entered  upon  his  mission  with 
zeal.  Having,  in  the  spring  of  1146,  convoked  an 
assembly  at  Vezalay,  he  presented  himself  in  the  garb 
of  £in  anchorite,  and,  on  a  hill  outside  the  town,  ad- 
dressed an  immense  concourse,  among  whom  figured 
the  King  and  Queen  of  France,  surrounded  by  barons 
and  prelates.     Never  was  an  orator  more  successful. 


124    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CEUSADEES. 

Indeed,  Bernard  produced  an  impression  hardly  less 
marvellous  than  Peter  the  Hermit  had  done  half  a 
century  earlier;  and,  as  he  concluded,  his  audience 
raised  the  old  cry  of  "  God  wills  it !  " 

While  the  hill-side  was  ringing  with  enthusiastic 
shouts,  Louis,  throwing  himself  on  his  knees,  received 
the  cross ;  and  Eleanor  immediately  followed  her 
husband's  example.  Shouts  of  "  The  cross !  "  "  The 
cross  !  "  then  rose  on  all  hands  ;  and  peers  and  peas- 
ants, bishops  and  burghers,  rushing  forward,  cast  them- 
selves at  Bernard's  feet.  Such  was  the  demand,  that 
the  crosses  provided  for  the  occasion  were  quite  in- 
sufficient. But  Bernard,  tearing  up  his  vestments,  got 
over  the  difficulty  with  a  readiness  that  Boemund  of 
Tarentum  might  have  envied  :  and  the  sacred  emblem 
soon  appeared  on  every  shoulder. 

Elate  with  the  success  of  his  oratory,  Bernard 
travelled  through  France  preaching  the  crusade  ;  and 
having  in  every  city  and  province  roused  the  enthusiam 
of  the  populace,  he  repaired  to  Germany. 

At  that  time,  the  crown  of  the  empire  of  the  West 
rested  on  the  brow  of  Conrad  the  Third,  but  not  quite 
so  easily  as  he  could  have  wished.  In  fact,  the  Ger- 
man Caesar  had  a  formidable  rival  in  the  Duke  of 
Bavaria,  and  felt  the  reverse  of  secure.  When,  there- 
fore, Bernard  reached  Spires,  and  asked  the  Emperor 
to  arm  for  the  defence  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  Conrad, 
who  was  holding  a  Diet,  evinced  no  ardor  for  the  en- 
terprise, 

"  Consider,"  he  said,  "  the  troubles  in  which  the 
empire  would  be  involved." 

"  The  Holy  See,"  said  Bernard,  "  has  placed  you 


THE    PEEACHING    OF    ST.  BERNARD.  125 

on  the  imperial  throne,  and  knows  how  to  support  you 
there.  If  you  defend  God's  heritage,  the  Church  will 
take  care  of  yours." 

But  still  Conrad  hesitated ;  and  the  preacher's 
eloquence  was  exerted  hi  vain.  At  length,  one  day 
when  Bernard  was  saying  mass  before  the  Emperor 
and  the  princes  and  lords  assembled  at  Spires,  he 
paused  in  the  midst  of  the  service  to  expatiate  on  the 
guilt  of  those  who  refused  to  fight  against  Christ's 
enemies ;  and  produced  such  an  effect  while  picturing 
the  day  of  judgment,  that  Conrad's  hesitation  van- 
ished. 

"  I  know  what  1  owe  to  Christ,"  he  said,  approaching 
with  tears  in  his  eyes  to  receive  the  cross,  "  and  I 
swear  to  go  where  his  service  calls  me." 

"  This  is  a  miracle  !  "  exclaimed  the  peers  and 
princes  present,  as  they  followed  their  sovereign's  ex- 
ample, and  vowed  to  attend  his  steps. 

Having  gained  over  Conrad,  the  eloquent  saint 
pursued  his  triumphs,  and  soon  fired  Germany  with 
zeal.  When  he  returned  to  France  and  reported  his 
success,  preparations  began  in  both  countries  ;  enthu- 
siasm was  general.  Men  of  all  ranks  assumed  the 
cross  ;  and  even  women  vowed  to  arm  themselves 
with  sword  and  lance,  and  took  an  oath  to  fight  for  the 
Holy  Sepulchre. 

It  was  arranged  that  Louis  and  Conrad  should 
depart  in  the  spring  of  1147,  and  that  the  French 
and  German  armies  should  unite  at  Constantinople. 
When  the  time  approached,  all  rushed  eastward  with 
the  cry  of  "  God  wills  it !  "  and  eveiy  road  was  cov- 
ered with  pilgrims  on  tlicir  way  to  the  camps.  Ber- 
11* 


126         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

nard  must  almost  have  felt  some  dismay  at  the  effect 
of  his  eloquence.  "  Villages  aiid  castles  are  deserted," 
he  wrote  to  the  Pope,  "  and  there  are  none  left  but 
widows  and  orphans,  whose  husbands  and  parents  are 
still  hving." 


MUCH    BKUIT    AND    LITTLE    FliUIT.  127 


CIIAPTEH    IV. 


MUCH    BRUIT    AXD    LITTLE    FHUIT. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1147,  Europe  was  in  com- 
motion. Everywhere  in  Germany  and  France,  men 
were  seen  with  the  cross  on  their  shoulders.  Shep- 
herds flung  down  their  crooks,  husbandmen  abandoned 
their  teams,  traders  quitted  their  booths,  barons  left 
their  castles,  and  bishops  deserted  their  bishoprics,  to 
arm  for  the  defence  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  From 
England,  exhausted  by  dynastic  war,  and  Italy,  agi- 
tated by  ecclesiastical  strife,  bands  of  warriors  issued 
to  swell  the  armies  of  Conrad  and  Louis.  Blany  ladies 
armed  themselves  for  this  crusade,  and  prepared  to 
signalise  their  prowess  under  the  leadership  of  a  female 
warrior  whose  dress  excited  much  admiration,  and 
whose  gilded  boots  procured  her  the  name  of  "  Golden- 
legs." 

At  Ratisbon,  about  Easter,  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many assembled  his  warriors.  Accompanied  by  a 
host  of  nobles,  among  whom  were  his  brother  Otho, 
Bishop  of  Frisigen  ;  his  nephew,  Frederick  Barbarossa, 
Duke  of  Suabia ;  the  Marquis  of  Montferrat,  and  the 
Duke  of  Bohemia,  Conrad  commenced  his  march  east- 
ward at  the  head  of  a  hundred  thousand  men,  and  sent 
messengers  to  announce  to  the  Emperor  of  the  East 


12S  THE    CRITSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 

the  intention  of  the  crusaders  to  cross  the  Greek  terri- 
tories. 

At  this  period,  Emanuel  Comnenus  reigned  at  Con- 
stantinople. Emanuel  was  grandson  of  Alexis,  whose 
cunning  had  wrought  the  first  crusaders  so  much 
annoyance,  and  quite  equal  in  duplicity  to  his  prede- 
cessor. On  receiving  Conrad's  message,  he  returned 
an  answer  highly  complimentary.  But  while  professing 
great  friendship  for  the  new  crusaders,  he  made  all 
their  movements  known  to  the  Saracens,  and  so 
managed  matters  that  their  march  was  frequently 
interrupted. 

The  elements  appeared  not  less  hostile  to  Conrad's 
army  than  the  Greeks.  While  the  Germans  encamped 
to  keep  the  Feast  of  Assumption,  in  a  valley  on  the 
river  Melas,  a  storm  suddenly  rose,  and  swelled  so 
violently  that  horses,  baggage,  and  tents  were  carried 
away.  The  crusaders,  amazed  and  terrified,  gathered 
themselves  up  ;  and,  deploring  their  mishaps,  pursued 
the  way  to  Constantinople. 

The  Emperor  of  the  East  was  not  by  any  means 
overjoyed  at  seeing  a  rival  Ccesar  before  his  capital. 
Emanuel  Comnenus  showed,  like  his  grandsire,  some 
doubts  of  the  crusaders'  good  faith  ;  and  would  no 
doubt  have  manifested  his  antipathy  more  strongly,  if 
Conrad's  army  had  been  less  formidable.  As  it  was, 
the  German  Emperor  did  not  meet  with  any  temptation 
to  prolong  his  visit.  Instead,  therefore,  of  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  the  French  at  Constantinople,  Conrad  made 
haste  to  cross  the  Bosphorus. 

No  sooner  was  Conrad  on  Asiatic  soil,  than  the  per- 
fidy of  the  Greeks  became  manifest.     Every  city  was 


MUCH    BRUIT    AND    LITTLE    FRUIT.  129 

fortified  —  every  gate  closed.  Even  provisions,  for 
which  the  crusaders  had  prepared  to  pay,  were 
obtained  with  difficulty ;  and  Greek  traders,  while 
buying  and  sclhng,  proved  as  dishonest  as  their  Em- 
peror. Before  being  supplied  with  meal,  the  Germans 
had  to  place  money  in  a  basket  lowered  from  the 
ramparts;  and  the  meal,  after  being  obtained,  was 
generally  found  to  be  adulterated  with  lime.  More- 
over, insult  was  added  to  injury  :  for,  however  grudg- 
ingly the  Greeks  furnished  provisions,  they  were  by  no 
means  sparing  of  ridicule. 

But  this  was  not  the  worst.  The  Greek  guides, 
recommended  to  Conrad  by  Emanuel,  proved  treach- 
erous in  the  extreme  ;  and  the  Germans'  line  of  march 
was  so  well  known  to  the  Saracens,  that  ambuscades 
awaited  them  in  every  defile,  and  stragglers  were  cut 
off  at  every  turn.  At  length,  when  the  crusaders 
reached  the  river  Meander,  the  Moslems  in  great  force 
awaited  them  on  the  opposite  bank. 

The  Emperor  and  his  men  had  grown  so  weary  of 
marching  side  by  side  with  treacherous  friends,  that 
they  were  not,  perhaps,  sorry  to  have  courageous  foes 
face  to  face.  The  river,  however,  had  not  the  appear- 
ance of  being  fordable  ;  and  the  crusaders  had  a  very 
slender  prospect  of  coming  to  close  conflict  with  their 
foes.  Conrad,  however,  was  not  to  be  baffled.  After 
exhorting  them  to  do  their  duty,  he  gave  the  signal  for 
dashing  onward  ;  and  the  crusaders,  urged  to  heroism, 
plunged  boldly  into  the  river.  The  consequence  is 
said  to  have  been  somewhat  startling  to  the  foe.  The 
stream,  suddenly  stopped  by  the  multitude  of  men  in 
bucklers,  corslets,  and  steel  brassets,  seemed  to  stand 


130  THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CKUSADERS. 

still ;  and  the  Saracens,  astonished  at  seeing  their 
enemies  pass  as  if  on  dry  land,  concluded  that  they 
were  aided  by  supernatural  powers. 

The  crusaders,  without  delay,  availed  themselves  of 
the  effect  produced  ;  and  the  Saracens  were  so  amazed, 
that  they  had  scarcely  courage  to  make  a  struggle. 
The  victory  of  the  Germans  was  soon  complete  ;  and 
the  vanquished  were  killed  in  such  numbers,  that  their 
bones  long  afterwards  formed  mounds  along  both 
banks  of  the  river. 

After  tliis  triumph,  which  perhaps  inspired  the  Ger- 
mans with  an  idea  of  invincibility,  Conrad  led  them 
towards  Iconium.  But  at  this  point  his  enemies  were 
prepared  for  a  desperate  struggle.  The  Sultan  of 
Iconium  had  assembled  a  mighty  army  to  oppose  the 
crusaders'  passage  ;  and  the  Greek  guides  soon  led  the 
Emperor's  soldiers  into  the  Sultan's  snare. 

While  Conrad  and  his  men,  near  Laodicea,  were 
toiling,  under  a  burning  sun,  through  narrow  passes, 
turbans  and  spear-heads  became  visible  on  the  moun- 
tains ;  and  gradually  a  Moslem  host  appeared  in  view. 
The  crusaders,  pent  up  in  defiles  and  encumbered  with 
heavy  armor,  were  in  no  condition  to  encounter  such 
foes  with  success  ;  and  the  Saracens,  making  attacks 
with  the  velocity  of  hawks  coming  down  on  their  prey, 
allowed  them  no  rest.  The  crusaders  suffered  to  such 
an  intolerable  degree,  that  corpses  strewed  their  line  of 
march  ;  and  Conrad,  finding  that  his  army  had 
gradually  melted  away,  prepared  to  retreat.  Escap- 
ing, more  by  good  luck  than  good  guidance,  from  the 
Saracens'  pursuit,  the  Germans,  reduced  to  a  tenth  of 
their  original  number,  contrived  to  find  their  way  to 
Constantinople. 


jrUCH    BRUIT    AND    LITTLE    FRUIT.  131 

Meanwhile,  the  King  of  France  was  in  motion. 
About  the  Feast  of  Pentecost,  Louis  proceeded  to  the 
Abbey  of  St.  Denis  to  take  from  the  aUar  the  national 
standard  of  France,  which,  from  a  staff  of  gold  and  a 
banner  with  edges  shaped  like  flames,  derived  the 
name  of  "  Oriflamme."  Having  received  the  ori- 
flamme,  and  the  abbot's  permission  to  depart  from  the 
kingdom,  Louis,  accompanied  by  Queen  Eleanor,  with 
her  ladies  and  troubadours,  directed  his  course  towards 
Metz,  which  had  been  appointed  as  a  rendezvous  ;  and, 
gathering  into  one  great  army  at  that  place  the  forces 
which  had  come  from  all  parts  of  France,  he  marched 
towards  Constantinople. 

On  reaching  Constantinople,  about  the  beginning  of 
October,  Louis  met  with  a  reception  infinitely  more 
flattering  than  had  been  given  to  Conrad.  Emanuel 
Avas  all  politeness,  and  expressed  the  utmost  friendship 
for  the  French  warriors.  At  first  they  were  deceived  ; 
but,  ere  long,  intelligence  that  he  was  in  regular 
alliance  with  the  Saracens,  roused  their  indignation.  A 
council  being  held,  many  of  the  crusaders  evinced 
their  desire  to  seize  Constantinople  ;  but  the  more 
timid  argued  for  moderation,  and  carried  the  day. 
Emanuel,  however,  feeling  uneasy  at  their  presence, 
spread  reports  that  the  Germans  had  gained  great  vic- 
tories in  the  East,  and  the  French,  impatient  to  share 
the  glory  and  the  spoil,  hastened  across  the  Bosphorus. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  Louis  and  his  comrades 
entered  Bithynia.  when  news  of  Conrad's  defeat 
reached  them.  The  French,  nevertheless,  pursued 
their  expedition  with  ardor,  and  ere  long  indulged  in  a 
dangerous  feeling  of  security.     The  result  was  most 


132         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEBS. 

unfortunate.  On  leavins;  Laodicea  and  entering  the 
mountain  passes,  they  found  themselves  exposed  to 
precisely  the  same  dangers  which  had  destroyed  Con- 
rad's army  ;  and  one  day,  while  they  were  entering  a 
valley,  and  everything  seemed  so  secure  that  every- 
body was  in  confusion,  the  Saracens  suddenly  appeared 
on  the  heights. 

The  crusaders  were  completely  taken  by  surprise. 
The  vanguard,  under  protection  of  which  were  the 
Queen  and  her  ladies,  was  fortunately  in  a  position  to 
escape.  But  the  main  body,  with  which  Louis 
marched,  was  encompassed  with  danger. ,  Above,  were 
Saracens  with  "  fierce  faces  threatening  war ;"  be- 
neath, steep  precipices  and  yawning  gulphs.  The 
conflict  was  commenced  by  the  Saracens.  Rushing 
from  the  heights,  with  sound  of  clarion  and  drum  and 
with  fearful  yells,  they  came  down  upon  the  pilgrim 
army  like  a  whirlwind.  Having  no  room  either  to 
advance  or  retreat,  the  crusaders  found  their  plight 
intolerable ;  and  many,  when  pushed  over  the  preci- 
pice, in  a  desperate  effort  to  escape  their  fate  dragged 
others  into  the  abyss.  Nothing  could  have  surpassed 
the  horrors  of  the  scene,  as  masses  of  rock  came 
crashing  from  the  mountains  on  one  side,  and  men  and 
horses  were  hurled  over  the  rocks  on  the  other. 

While  all  around  was  panic  and  despair,  Louis, 
rallying  some  of  his  bravest  knights,  attempted  to 
charge  up  the  hill,  and,  after  thirty  nobles  had  fallen 
by  his  side,  succeeded  in  reaching  a  mass  of  rock 
which  projected  itself  midway.  Perched  on  this  ledge, 
with  his  back  against  a  tree,  the  King  had  to  withstand 
the   attack   of    several    Saracens.       His   fate   seemed 


MUCH    BRUIT    AND    LITTLE    FRUIT.  133 

sealed.  But  luckily,  the  assailants,  unaware  of  his 
rank,  and  eager  to  participate  in  the  spoil,  left  him  as 
of  no  consequence ;  and  Louis,  escaping  as  if  by 
miracle,  mounted  a  stray  horse,  avoided  countless 
perils,  met  at  nightfall  with  some  of  his  soldiers,  and 
under  their  guidance  rejoined  his  van. 

This  disaster  was  succeeded  by  others  hardly  less 
intolerable.  As  winter  approached,  the  weather  be- 
came so  cold  and  rainy,  that  the  prospects  of  the  army 
were  gloomy  in  the  extreme.  All  the  horrors  of  the 
first  crusade  had  to  be  endured  ;  and  at  length,  when 
the  crusaders,  sick  at  heart,  arrived  at  Attalia,  they 
were  famished  and  in  rags. 

Attalia  was  a  city  inhabited  by  Greeks,  and  governed 
by  the  Emperor  of  the  East.  Of  course  the  reception 
of  the  crusaders  was  the  reverse  of  cordial ;  and  Louis, 
encamping  outside  the  walls,  asked  his  nobles  to  decide 
what  was  to  be  done. 

While  the  crusaders  were  discussing  various  plans, 
the  Governor  of  Attalia  sent  to  offer  Louis  vessels  to 
convey  him  to  a  place  of  safety ;  and  Louis,  accepting 
the  offer,  embarked  with  the  queen,  his  lords,  and 
what  remained  of  his  cavalry,  and  sailed  for  Antioch. 
The  rest  of  the  army,  left  to  their  fate,  were  in  a  most 
unenviable  position.  The  Greeks  declined  to  receive 
them  into  Attalia  ;  and  they  were  in  no  condition  to 
resist  the  Saracens.  Some,  rendered  desperate,  em- 
braced the  Mahometan  religion  ;  the  others,  exhausted 
by  hunger  and  fatigue,  died  by  the  swords  of  the 
Saracens. 

It  was  the  19th  of  March,    1148,   when  Louis  and 
Eleanor  sailed  for  Antioch,  which  was  then  under  the 
12 


134  THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 

government  of  Raymond  of  Poictiers,  Eleanor's  uncle, 
a  princely  adventurer,  who  had  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  Holy  Laud,  and  espoused  the  grand-daughter  of 
Boemund  of  Tarentum.  The  King  and  Queen  of 
France  were  warmly  welcomed  by  Raymond,  and  the 
crusaders  soon  forgot,  in  a  gay  and  brilliant  court,  the 
hardships  they  had  endured,  and  the  comrades  they 
had  abandoned.  The  city  at  that  time  boasted  of  the 
presence  of  many  high  dames  celebrated  for  their 
beauty.  Eleanor,  however,  eclipsed  them  all ;  and 
she  appears  to  have  evinced  so  strong  a  desire  for 
admiration,  and  carried  her  flirtation  so  far  beyond  the 
bounds  of  propriety,  that  Louis  became  jealous,  and 
bore  her  off  to  Jerusalem. 

On  reaching  the  Holy  City,  whither  Conrad  had 
already  repaired  in  the  guise  of  a  pilgrim,  Louis  was 
welcomed  with  enthusiasm.  Princes,  prelates,  and 
people  sallied  forth  from  the  gates  to  meet  him  ;  and 
his  arrival  was  hailed  with  loud  shouts  of  "  Blessed  is 
he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Baldwin  the  Third  was  naturally  anxious  to  make 
the  most  of  the  presence  of  a  King  and  an  Emperor ; 
and,  anxious  with  their  assistance  to  undertake  some 
great  enterprise,  the  young  Sovereign  convoked  an 
assembly  at  Acre  to  deliberate  on  the  affairs  of  his 
kingdom.  Louis  and  Conrad  repaired  thither  ;  and  the 
assembly  resolved  on  besieging  Damascus.  Accord- 
ingly, in  June,  1149,  a  Christian  army,  commanded  by 
the  Emperor  of  Germany  and  the  Kings  of  P'rance 
and  Jerusalem,  and  preceded  by  the  Patriarch  bearing 
the  cross,  marched  to  Damascus,  and  took  possession 
of  the  gardens  and  orchards  outside  the  city. 


MTJCH    BKTJIT    AND    LITTLE    FRUIT.  135 

The  siege  was  forthwith  commenced,  and  the  cru- 
saders entertained  high  hopes  of  success.  At  first, 
indeed,  they  carried  all  before  them,  and  displayed  a 
degree  of  valor  which  would  have  done  honor  to  the 
earlier  pilgrim  princes ;  but  no  sooner  did  triumph 
seem  almost  certain,  than  they  began  to  dispute  as  to 
the  person  on  whom  the  besieged  city  was  to  be 
bestowed  when  won,  and  discord  soon  pervaded  the 
camp.  The  King  and  the  Emperor  proposed  to  give 
Damascus  to  Thierry,  Count  of  Flanders  ;  while  the 
Syrian  barons  deemed  that  the  prize  should  fall  to  one 
of  their  number. 

The  discord  in  the  camp  of  the  besiegers  was  not 
unknown  to  the  commander  of  the  besieged.  This 
man,  Ayoub,  the  founder  of  a  famous  dynastj^,  took 
advantage  of  the  discord  in  the  enemy's  camp  ;  and 
addressed  threats  and  promises  to  the  Syrian  barons 
with  so  much  effect,  that  the  crusaders,  under  their 
influence,  hesitated,  changed  their  point  of  attack,  and 
ultimately  abandoned  their  enterprise  in  despair. 

After  tliis  unfortunate  expedition,  the  idea  of  besieg- 
ing Ascalon  was  suggested  to  the  crusaders ;  but 
neither  Louis  nor  Conrad  gave  encouragement  to  the 
project.  Both  were,  in  fact,  anxious  to  leave  the  East; 
and  the  King  of  France,  embarking  at  Acre,  reached 
his  capital  in  the  autumn,  with  a  mere  fragment  of  his 
brilliant  army.  From  that  time,  Louis  appeared  more 
like  a  monk  than  a  monarch  ;  and  Eleanor,  indignant 
at  the  weakness  he  displayed,  had  her  marriage  dis- 
solved on  the  plea  of  relationship,  and  separating  her- 
self from  the  husband  of  her  youth,  carried  with  her  as 
her  dowry  the  magnificent  province  of  Aquitaine. 


136  THE    CRUSADES   AND    THE    CKUSADEKS. 

Louis  was  not  sorry  to  get  rid  of  Eleanor.  He 
affected  to  suspect  that,  at  Antioch,  she  had  shown  a 
criminal  regard  for  a  young  Turk,  named  Saladin ;  and 
had  creduHty  enough  to  beUeve  that  a  woman  who  lay 
under  such  a  suspicion  would,  even  though  heiress 
of  Aquitaine,  be  scorned  by  any  Christian  prince. 
Scarcely,  however,  had  Eleanor,  after  leaving  Paris, 
arrived  at  Blois,  when  the  Count  of  that  province 
attempted  to  wed  her  by  force  ;  but,  favored  by  for- 
tune, she  escaped  do\vn  the  Seine.  At  Tours,  the 
Count  of  Anjou,  with  matrimonial  intent,  lay  in  wait  to 
intercept  her ;  but,  warned  in  time,  the  divorced  Queen 
avoided  the  ambush.  At  Poictiers,  however,  she 
found  a  wooer  to  her  lildng.  At  that  place,  Henry 
Plantagenet  presented  himself,  and  he,  being  accom- 
plished and  handsome,  was  treated  with  favor.  It  is 
true  that  Henry  was  Eleanor's  junior  by  a  few  years ; 
but  she,  overlooking  the  objection  of  age,  submitted  a 
second  time  to  the  conjugal  yoke,  and  at  once  bestowed 
her  hand  and  the  duchy  of  Aquitaine  on  the  ambitious 
heir  to  the  English  crown. 

Such  was  the  expedition  known  as  "  The  Second 
Crusade,"  preached  by  St.  Bernard,  and  led  by  Conrad 
and  Louis.  "  The  French  proverb,"  says  Fuller, 
"  was  verified  of  this  voyage  — '  Much  bruit  and  little 
fruit.' " 


THE  nOSPITALLEHS  AND  THE  TEMPLARS.        137 


CHAPTER    V. 


THE  HOSPITALLERS  AND  THE  TEMPLARS. 

At  the  time  when  Conrad  and  Louis  visited  Jeru- 
salem, the  defence  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  did  not 
devolve  wholly  upon  King  Baldwin  and  the  Christian 
barons  of  the  East.  Ever  and  anon,  before  the  eyes 
of  pilgrims,  men  with  bronzed  visages,  athletic  forms, 
muscular  limbs,  wearing  long  mantles  over  their  chain 
mail,  and  mounted  on  choice  steeds,  swept  along  with 
the  air  of  warriors,  who  desired  nothing  so  much  as 
foes  to  conquer.  These  were  the  Knights  of  the  Tem- 
ple, and  the  Knights  of  the  Hospital  of  St.  John,  who 
assumed  a  haughty  superiority  toward  their  compeers, 
and  boasted  that  their  orders  formed  the  bulwark  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Jerusalem. 

The  Templars  and  the  Knights  of  St.  John  had  not 
originally  aspired  to  be  what  they  now  appeared.  Not- 
withstanding the  high  pretensions  and  defiant  bearing 
of  the  "  military  monks,''  both  orders  had  sprung  from 
obscurity.  Before  becoming  warriors,  they  had  been 
simple  almsmen ;  and  they  whose  wealth  and  power 
rendered  them  objects  of  awe,  had  originally  rejoiced 
in  their  poverty  and  humility. 

It  appears  that,  long  ere  the   crusades  began,  some 
Italian  merchants  founded  an  hospital,  dedicated  to  St. 
12* 


138  THE    CRUSADES    A^'D    THE    CRUSADERS. 

John  of  Jerusalem,  the  brethren  of  which  consecrated 
their  Uves  to  the  service  of  pilgrims  and  the  poor.  As 
time  passed  on,  however,  the  hospital  increased  in 
wealth,  erected  stately  buildings,  and  sent  forth,  under 
the  auspices  of  a  grand-master,  champions  to  contend 
with  Pagan  and  Turk.  The  Knights  of  St.  John  wore 
over  their  mail  a  black  mantle,  on  which  appeared  five 
crosses,  in  memory  of  the  five  wounds  of  Christ,  and 
a  red  belt  with  a  white  cross.  Moreover,  they  took  the 
oath  of  poverty  and  chastity,  and  vowed  to  succor  and 
sustain  all  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Some  years  after  the  institution  of  the  Hospitallers 
of  St.  John,  a  rival  order  sprang  into  existence.  Sev- 
eral persons  assembled  near  the  spot  where  Solomon's 
Temple  was  believed  to  have  stood,  and,  dedicating 
themselves  by  a  solemn  oath  to  the  defence  of  pilgrims 
coming  to  Jerusalem,  formed  the  order  of  the  Temple 
of  Zion.  Like  the  Hospitallers,  the  Templars  vowed 
themselves  to  chastity  and  poverty ;  and,  indeed, 
paraded  their  penury  by  taking  for  their  seal  two 
knights  riding  on  one  horse,  and  offering  their  swords 
and  belts  as  the  only  ransom  they  could  afford  to  pay 
when  taken  by  the  Saracens.  They  wore,  over  their 
armor,  a  long  white  mantle,  on  the  shoulder  of  which 
was  a  red  cross,  and  they  assumed  a  banner,  half  black 
and  half  white,  to  intimate  that  while  fair  and  candid 
to  Christians,  they  were  black  and  terrible  to  unbe- 
lievers. 

The  two  great  monastic  orders,  which  thus  sprung 
up  in  the  Holy  Land,  were  not  open  to  all  comers. 
Their  constitution,  indeed,  appears  to  have  been  most 
aristocratic  ;  and  high  qualifications  were  required.     It 


THE  HOSPITALLERS  AND  THE  TEMPLARS.        139 

was  necessary,  to  become  a  knight  of  either  order,  that 
the  aspirant  should  have  reached  the  age  of  eighteen  ; 
that  his  birth  should  be  legitimate ;  that  his  blood 
should  be  gentle ;  that  he  should  be  of  a  vigorous 
frame  and  of  a  noble  presence.  These  rules  did  not, 
of  course  apply  to  the  priests,  or  servants  of  the  order, 
but  doubtless,  in  the  case  of  the  knights,  they  were 
strictly  enforced. 

But  there  was  little  danger  of  any  lack  of  candidates. 
In  an  age  when  the  union  of  the  military  spirit  with 
the  religious  spirit  was  so  strong,  the  life  led  by  the 
Templars  and  Hospitallers  could  hardly  fail  to  recom- 
mend itself  to  youthful  patricians  who  inherited  nothing 
but  the  courage  and  piety  of  their  fathers.  In  fact, 
they  could  hardly  have  imagined  any  career  more  in 
accordance  with  their  ideas  than  that  now  presented. 
Accordingly,  no  sooner  did  the  renown  of  the  Templars 
and  Knights  of  St.  John  spread  itself  over  Europe, 
than  almost  every  illustrious  family  sent  a  cadet  to 
swell  their  ranks.  Such  men,  picked  from  the  flower 
of  Europe's  nobility,  naturally  fought  with  courage 
and  died  with  dignity  ;  and  they  rendered  themselves 
terrible  to  foes  on  every  field  where  Christian  and 
Moslem  met  in  the  shock  of  war.  In  close  conflict 
they  were  the  most  formidable  of  champions.  At  the 
cry  of  battle,  they  armed  "  with  faith  within  and  steel 
without,"  and  professed  their  pride  to  conquer  and 
their  happiness  to  die  for  the  Christian  cause. 

For  many  years  after  their  institution,  the  conduct 
of  the  Templars  and  Knights  of  St.  John  was  worthy 
of  all  praise.  But,  as  time  passed  over,  they  yielded 
to  the  baneful  influence  of  overgrown  wealth.     Every 


140  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CHUSADERS. 

victory  gave  them  new  possessions  in  Asia ;  and 
admirers  in  every  nation  in  Europe  granted  them 
lands.  Ere  long  the  military  monks  became  potent  as 
sovereign  princes ;  and  their  banners  waved  over 
countless  cities,  villages,  and  provinces.  Gradually 
they  gave  less  attention  to  the  defence  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  than  to  augmenting  the  wealth  and  glory  of 
their  orders,  and  exchanged  their  original  humility  and 
poverty  for  displays  of  the  arrogance  and  ostentation 
destined  to  involve  them  in  ruin. 


ArPAIES    OF    THE    EAST.  141 


CHAPTER    VI. 


AFFAIRS    OF    THE    EAST. 


Soon  after  the  King  of  France  and  the  Emperor  of 
Germany  sailed  from  Acre,  Baldwin  the  Third,  having 
meantime  taken  the  city  of  Ascalon,  died  from  the 
effects  of  poison  administered  by  a  Syrian  physician, 
and  left  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem  to  his  brother,  Al- 
meric,  in  a  condition  the  reverse  of  satisfactory. 

Exposed  to  an  eastern  climate,  and  yielding  to 
oriental  effeminacy,  the  Christians  of  the  East  had 
rapidly  degenerated.  Within  the  Holy  City,  they  had 
abandoned  themselves  to  vicious  indulgence. 

This  was  not  all.  The  warriors  of  the  cross  set  at 
defiance  the  doctrines  of  chivalry  as  well  as  Christian- 
ity, and  held  themselves  free  from  keeping  faith  with 
infidels.  Forgetting  that  the  best  evidence  to  give  of 
the  superiority  of  a  religion  consists  in  the  respect 
shone  by  its  professors  for  virtue  and  truth,  they  not 
only  indulged  in  gross  vice,  but  broke  faith  without 
scruple. 

The  Christians  would  have  fallen  an  easy  prey  to 
their  foes,  if,  strangely  enough,  the  Saracens  had  not 
been  in  almost  as  wretched  a  state  as  their  adversaries. 
For  centuries  the  Caliph  of  Cairo  and  the  Caliph  of 
Bagdad,  one  representing  the  Fatunites,  the  other  the 


142  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Abassides,  were  implacable  enemies.  Each  claimed  to 
be  the  vicar  of  Maliomet,  and  denounced  his  rival  as 
the  enemy  of  God.  In  the  mosques  of  Cairo,  the 
name  of  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad  was  daily  cursed  ;  and 
in  the  mosques  of  Bagdad  that  of  the  Caliph  of  Cairo 
was  exposed  to  a  similar  mdignity.  It  is  true,  that  both 
Caliphs  remained  for  ever  shut  up  from  the  public, 
and  possessed  no  real  power  ;  but,  as  the  chiefs  of 
Islamism,  their  names  were  still  of  high  account,  and 
used  without  scruple  by  ambitious  emirs  to  promote 
their  own  interests  and  advance  their  own  fortunes. 

It  happened  that  in  1165,  while  Elhadack,  Caliph  of 
Cairo,  was  passing  his  life  in  a  seralgio,  pursuing  sinful 
pleasures  and  indulging  in  voluptuous  legarthy,  two 
Saracen  chiefs,  Dargan  and  Sanor,  contended  for  the 
viceroyalty  of  his  empire.  When  this  strife  was  at 
its  height,  Sanor  entreated  aid  from  Noureddin,  who 
having,  in  other  days,  wrested  Edessa  from  the  ill-fated 
Joceline  de  Courtenay,  had  since  advanced  himself  to 
the  dignity  of  Sultan  of  Damascus ;  and  Noureddin, 
with  a  keen  eye  to  his  own  mterest,  despatched  to 
Sanor's  aid  a  powerful  arm}-,  under  the  command  of 
Syracon,  a  captain  of  experience  and  valor. 

Undismayed  by  the  arrival  of  so  renowned  a  war- 
rior, Dargan  mustered  an  army,  and  boldly  marched 
to  meet  the  troops  of  Noureddin.  The  result  was 
more  fortunate  for  him  than  might  have  been  ex- 
pected. In  a  battle  fought,  he  came  off  the  victor, 
and  seemed  to  have  fortune  on  his  side.  But  soon 
after  his  victory,  Dargan  was  slain  by  treachery,  and 
Sanor,  proliting  by  his  rival's  death,  immediately  be- 
came sultan. 


AFFAIRS    OF    THE    EAST.  143 

So  far  all  went  smoothly.  But  Sanor  now  became 
alarmed  at  the  attitude  assumed  by  the  army  whose 
aid  he  had  invoked.  In  fact,  Syracon,  instead  of  re- 
turning to  Damascus,  seized  Belbeis,  on  the  Nile,  for- 
tified that  city,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  troops  to 
undertake  the  conquest  of  Egypt. 

Sanor  was  naturally  indignant  at  the  perfidy  of 
his  auxiliary.  Finding  himself  outwitted,  he  looked 
around  for  new  aUies,  and  bethought  him  of  those 
Christian  warriors  whose  feats  of  valor  had  aston- 
ished the  East,  and  whose  mighty  arms  and  barbed 
steeds,  charging  in  close  ranks,  had  ever  borne  down 
opposition.  Accordingly,  he  hastened  to  send  imploring 
messages  to  the  King  of  Jerusalem ;  and  Almeric, 
appearing  with  an  army  in  Egypt,  after  a  tough  strug- 
gle, rendered  Sanor  victorious  over  his  enemies. 

But  Syracon  was  not  the  man  to  yield  easily  to 
adversity.  He  knew  that  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad  con- 
tended with  the  Caliph  of  Cairo  for  the  heirship  of 
the  Prophet  and  the  sovereignty  over  all  Moslems,  and 
resolved  to  turn  their  rivalry  to  account.  No  sooner, 
therefore,  was  he  defeated,  than  he  repaired  to  Damas- 
cus, and  induced  Noureddin  to  assure  the  Caliph  of 
Bagdad  that,  if  properly  supported,  he  would  make 
all  Egypt  subject  to  the  authority  of  the  Abassides. 
The  Caliph  gladly  gave  his  sanction  to  the  project  ; 
and  Syracon,  at  the  head  of  a  mighty  host  of'  warriors, 
descended  upon  Egypt. 

On  hearing  of  the  projected  invasion,  Sanor  was 
astounded.  Recovering  from  his  surprise,  however, 
he  sent  to  the  King  of  Jerusalem,  imploring  him  to 
front  the  new  peril,  and   offering  a  pension  of  forty 


144  THE    CRrSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

thousand  ducats.  Almeric  was  not  unwilling  to  un- 
dertake the  task  on  such  terms.  Not  liking,  however, 
to  depend  on  the  promises  of  one  who  was  merely 
viceroy,  he  insisted  on  treating  with  the  Caliph  ;  and 
Sanor,  finding  that  the  Christian  King's  resolution  on 
this  point  was  not  to  be  shaken,  consented  that  am- 
bassadors should  be  sent  to  confer  with  the  vicar  of 
Mahomet. 

For  this  important  mission,  Hugh,  Earl  of  Ceserea, 
and  a  knight  of  the  Temple,  were  selected  ;  and,  ac- 
companied by  Sanor,  they  repaired  to  Cairo.  On 
reaching  that  city,  they  dismounted  from  their  steeds, 
and  were  conducted  to  the  palace  within  whose  pre- 
cincts no  Christian  had  ever  before  set  foot,  guided 
through  dark  passages  guarded  by  Ethiopians,  and 
thence  into  courts  so  richly  and  beautifully  ornamented, 
that  they  could  not  refrain  from  expressing  admiration. 
"  The  farther  v/e  went,"  said  they,  "  the  greater  was 
the  splendor  and  state." 

At  length,  the  ambassadors  reached  the  chamber 
where,  behind  a  traverse  wrought  with  pearls,  the 
Caliph  was  seated  in  all  his  dignity.  On  entering  this 
sanctuary,  Sanor  gave  intimation  of  his  presence,  and 
thrice  prostrated  himself  on  the  ground.  The  curtain 
was  then  drawn,  and  the  Caliph  discovered  sitting, 
with  serene  majesty,  on  a  throne  of  gold,  surrounded 
by  the  officers  of  his  court,  who  appeared  both  grieved 
and  surprised  to  see  Christians  standing  in  that  place 
and  presence. 

The  Earl  and  the  Templar  regarded  the  spectacle 
presented  to  them  with  mingled  astonishment  and  awe  ; 
but  Sanor  was  quite  at  home,  and   humbly  kissed  the 


AFFAIRS    OF    THE    EAST.  145 

Caliph's  foot.  Kneeling  before  the  golden  throne,  he 
explained  why  the  ambassadors  were  there,  expatiated 
on  the  danger  to  which  the  empire  was  exposed,  ex- 
pfauDed  the  treaty  into  which  he  had  entered  with  King 
Almeric,  and  begged  the  Caliph  to  ratify  the  conditions 
by  giving  his  hand.  The  Caliph,  however,  hesitated 
about  descending  so  much  from  his  dignity,  and,  after 
expressing  some  objections,  offered  his  glove.  But  the 
ambassadors  shook  their  heads  :  and  Hush  of  Ceserea 
spoke.  "  Sir,"  said  the  Earl,  "  truth  makes  no  holes 
to  hide  itself.  Princes,  if  they  would  covenant  must 
deal  fairly  and  openly.  Give  me,  therefore,  your 
hand  :  for  I  will  make  no  bargain  with  your  glove." 
Yielding  to  necessity,  the  Caliph  consented  to  the 
humiliation  of  allowing  the  ambassadors  to  touch  his 
hand ;  and  they  were  soon  after  dismissed  with  rich 
gifts. 

By  this  time  the  King  of  Jerusalem  had  approached 
Cairo  with  his  armv  ;  and,  matters  bavins:  been  satis- 
factorily  arranged,  he  worsted  Syracon  in  a  battle 
fought  in  the  isle  of  Maalle.  The  victory,  however, 
did  not  prove  quite  decisive,  and  the  struggle  was 
maintained  with  varvins:  success  for  many  months, 
Ultimatelv,  Svracon,  havinor  obtained  an  hcwaoarable  ca- 
pitiilation,  led  his  army  from  Egypt.  Almeric  also  took 
his  departure,  and  conducted  his  warriors,  laden  with 
gold,  back  to  Jerusalem. 

Almeric  had  so  far  succeeded  in  the  pursuit  of 
glory  and  gold.  Unfortimately  for  his  welfare,  the 
Christian  Kins  was  not  content  with  the  laurels  and 
the  ducats  he  had.  Having  seen  Egypt  suSiciently 
to  be  aware  of  the  wealth  of  the  ccuntry,  ana  /  . 
13 


146  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

weakness  of  its  government,  he  panted  for  possession, 
and  sent  ambassadors  to  Emanuel,  Emperor  of  Con- 
stantinople, whose  daughter  he  had  espoused,  entreat- 
ing assistance  in  a  great  scheme  of  conquest.  Emanuel 
approved  of  Almeric's  views,  and  promised  to  aid  him 
with  a  powerful  fleet. 

Encouraged  in  his  project,  Almeric,  in  1168,  de- 
termined to  defy  his  treaty  with  the  Caliph,  and 
undertake  the  invasion  of  Egypt.  The  idea  was  not 
received  with  universal  favor.  Many  of  the  wisest 
Christian  warriors  opposed  the  enterprise,  and  the 
Grand  Master  of  the  Temple  loudly  protested  against 
a  breach  of  faith.  But  Almeric,  who  was  strongly 
supported  by  the  Knights  of  St.  Jolm,  held  steadily 
to  his  purpose  ;  and,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of 
his  army,  reached  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  besieged  and . 
took  Belbeis,  and  after  pillaging  the  city,  consigned  it 
to  the  flames. 

But  while  the  King  of  Jerusalem  had  been  pre- 
paring for  the  conquest  of  Egypt,  the  same  project 
had  occupied  the  thoughts  of  the  Sultan  of  Damascus. 
Syracon,  in  fact,  had  impressed  his  master  with  the 
conviction  that  the  Fatimites  were  on  the  verge  of 
ruin,  and  the  Egyptians  ripe  for  new  governors. 
Noureddin  listened  with  gratification  to  the  sug- 
gestions of  his  general,  who  was  already  occupied 
with  schemes  for  possessing  himself  of  Eg}^pt,  when 
the  Cahph,  alarmed  at  Almeric's  invasion,  implored 
assistance  to  repel  the  enemies  of  the  Prophet.  The 
Sultan  of  Damascus  received  the  Caliph's  message 
with  joy ;  and  at  his  bidding,  Syracon,  at  the  head  of 
a  numerous  army,  crossed  the  desert,  and  appeared  on 
the  banks  of  the  Nile. 


ArFAIKS    OF    THE    EAST.  147 

Almeric  was  wholly  unprepared  for  the  presence  of 
such  a  foe.  In  Sanor,  the  king  of  Jerusalem  had  met 
his  match  at  the  game  of  deceit.  By  sending  to  im- 
plore pity,  and  offering  two  millions  of  golden  crowns, 
Sanor  had  thrown  the  invader  off  his  guard.  Wliile 
waiting  for  the  promised  treasure,  and  vainly  expect- 
ing the  Greek  fleet,  Almeric  gave  the  Eg}-ptians  an 
opportunity  of  fortifying  their  cities  and  preparing 
to  bid  him  defiance  ;  and  he  only  awoke  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  deluded,  when  he  learned 
that  Syracon  was  approaching  at  the  head  of  a  formid- 
able force. 

On  comprehending  his  position,  Almeric  roused 
himself  to  action,  and  eager  to  repair  his  error, 
hastened  to  offer  Syracon  battle.  But  the  Moslem 
warrior  having  no  inclination  to  gratify  the  wish  of 
the  Christian  King,  declined  the  honor  of  an  engage- 
ment till  he  had  formed  a  junction  with  the  Eg\-ptians. 
Almeric,  unprepared  to  cope  with  the  united  armies, 
was  fain  to  retreat  ;  and,  having  been  pursued  to  the 
verge  of  the  desert,  he  returned  to  Jerusalem. 

Nevertheless,  Almeric  could  not  divest  himself  of 
an  ambition  to  figure  as  conqueror  of  Eg}'pt.  The 
aspiration  having  become  part  of  himself,  he  repaired 
to  Constantinople  to  beg  the  Emperor's  assistance  in 
reaUzing  the  grand  project.  Emanuel  welcomed  his 
son-in-law  with  imperial  magnificence,  and  was  lavish 
of  promises.  But  nothing  was  ever  done  in  the  way 
of  performance ;  and  Almeric  returned  to  the  Holy 
City  to  mourn  his  blighted  hopes.  The  project  was 
still  haunting  Almeric's  brain,  when  he  died,  leaving 
his  subjects  in  distress  to  defend  a  menaced  kingdom, 
and  a  son  in  boyhood  to  inherit  a  tottering  throne. 


118  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEES. 

Meamvhile  Syracon  had  entered  Cairo  in  triumph, 
hoisted  Noureddin's  banner  on  the  towers  and  ram- 
parts, and  been  welcomed  by  the  Cahph  as  a  deUvcrer. 
Nourcddin  finding  himself  master  of  Egypt,  Syria, 
and  the  richest  provinces  of  the  East,  was  preparing 
to  crown  his  successes  with  the  annihilation  of  the 
Christians,  and  the  capture  of  the  Holy  City.  The 
Sultan  of  Damascus  caused  prayers  to  be  offered  for 
the  success  of  the  expedition,  and  even  constructed, 
whh  his  own  hands,  a  pulpit  to  be  placed  in  one  of 
the  chief  mosques  of  Jerusalem.  Death,  however, 
surprised  Noureddin  in  the  midst  of  his  preparations, 
and  for  a  brief  period  averted  the  perils  that  threatened 
the  Christian  stated. 


SALADIN    THE    GREAT.  149 


CHAPTER  VIL 


SALADIN    THE    GREAT. 


When"  Noureddin  expired,  the  vast  empire  of  which 
he  had  been  master,  was  in  no  small  danger  of  dis- 
memberment. The  only  son  of  the  departed  Sultan 
wa*  a  child  incapable  of  defendmg  his  hereditary- 
dominions  ;  the  emirs,  each  eager  to  turn  the  crisis 
to  his  own  advantage,  began  to  quarrel  about  a  division 
of  power ;  and  a  relapse  to  chaos  appeared  inevitable. 
Terrified  at  the  prospect  of  discord,  disorder,  and 
civil  war,  the  Moslem  nations  recognized  with  joy  the 
claims  of  a  warrior,  who  possessed  courage  and  intel- 
lect to  deal  with  the  circumstances,  and  to  pursue 
those  projects  on  which  the  heart  of  Noureddin  had 
been  set. 

Saladin  was  descended  from  the  races  inhabitinjr  the 
mountains  beyond  the  Tigris,  and  was  the  son  of  that 
Ayoub,  who  defended  Damascus  against  the  Christian 
army  led  by  the  Emperor  of  Germany  and  the  Kings 
of  France  and  Jerusalem.  But  though  brought  up 
under  the  eye  of  his  father,  and  taught  from  his  cradle 
to  appreciate  achievements  of  valor  and  genius,  Sala- 
din, in  youth,  devoted  so  little  attention  to  war  or 
politics,  and  gave  so  much  time  to  pleasure  and  dis- 
sipation, that  no  one  regarded  him  as  capable  of  attain- 


150  THE    CliUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

ing  to  greatness.  It  would  indeed  have  been  difficult 
to  imagine  the  son  of  Ayoub  destined  to  mflict  a  mortal 
blow  on  the  Christian  kingdom  in  the  East,  and  to 
maintain  the  Moslem  power  against  the  bravest  empe- 
rors and  kings  of  Christendom. 

The  first  warlike  expedition  in  which  Saladin  figured, 
was  one  of  those  undertaken  by  Syracon  to  the  banks 
of  the  Nile.  The  young  warrior  did  not  return  to 
Damascus  without  having  proved  his  courage  ;  but 
the  hardships  of  a  camp  hfe  were  understood  to  be 
little  to  his  liking.  When  ordered  by  Noureddin  to  go 
back  to  Egypt,  he  did  not  obey  without  hesitation  and 
murmurs.  "  I  go,"  said  he,  yielding  to  necessity ; 
"  but  with  the  despair  of  a  man  led  to  execution." 

Fortune,  however,  seemed  resolved  on  making  Sa- 
ladin great  in  spite  of  himself.  The  death  of  Syracon 
rendered  the  post  of  vizier  vacant ;  and  the  Caliph, 
imagining  Saladin  incapable  of  usurpation,  nominated 
him  to  the  post.  No  sooner  did  this  happen  than  a 
marvellous  change  came  over  his  life.  Hitherto  he 
had  been  a  young  warrior  given  to  indolence  and  dis- 
sipation. Now  he  appeared  in  a  new  character. 
Neglecting  no  means  of  increasing  his  influence,  he 
won  the  esteem  of  the  imans  by  his  austerity,  and 
the  favor  of  the  soldiers  by  his  munificence.  Ere 
long,  he  ventured  upon  an  important  step.  By  killing 
the  Cahphof  Cairo  with  his  horse-mace  he  extinguished 
the  Fatimites  and  made  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad  head  of 
all  Moslems.  For  this  service,  Saladin  was  congratu- 
lated by  the  chief  of  the  Abassides  and  presented  with 
a  vest  of  honor. 

Saladin  now   had  his  name  mentioned  in  the  public 


SALADIN    THE    GllEAT.  151 

prayers ;  and  daily  extended  his  power  in  the  East. 
Ilis  position,  however,  was  not  quite  secure.  Indeed, 
Noureddin  became  jealous  of  the  young  Viceroy  ;  and 
Saladin  would  probably  have  fallen  a  victim.  But  at 
that  crisis  Noureddin  died  ;  and  Saladin,  setting  aside 
the  Sultan's  heir,  ascended  the  throne  of  Egypt  and 
prepared  for  war  with  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem. 

The  kingdom  thus  menaced  by  the  armies  of  Sala- 
din, was  in  no  condition  to  resist.  Decay  was  visible 
on  every  side  ;  discord  reigned  on  all  hands ;  discipline 
was  almost  at  an  end  ;  law  was  openly  set  at  defiance  ; 
and  authority  could  not  make  itself  felt.  Every 
count  or  baron,  secure  in  his  strong  castle  on  the 
summit  of  a  mountain  or  in  the  cavern  of  a  rock,  held 
the  royal  power  in  contempt.  The  merchants  of  Ven- 
ice and  Genoa,  who  frequented  the  maritime  cities, 
were  at  daggers-drawn.  The  Imights  of  the  Temple 
and  the  Hospital  were  at  deadly  feud  ;  and  both  orders 
were  at  variance  with  the  ecclesiastics,  whom  they 
frequently  chased  into  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre. Religion  had  lost  influence  over  the  lives  of 
men  ;  and  the  clergy  neither  strove  to  restore  concord 
nor  to  set  an  example  of  virtue. 

But  it  was  in  the  capital  of  the  Christian  kingdom 
that  matters  had  reached  the  w^orst  stage.  In  the  Holy 
City  decorum  was  utterly  disregarded ;  and  the  lives 
of  some  of  the  clergy  were  more  scandalous  than 
those  of  their  neighbors.  Cliiefs  and  churchmen  were 
equally  abandoned;  and  dames  and  damsels  of  all 
rauks  kept  them  in  countenance.  "  Sin,"  says  Fuller, 
"  reigned  in  every  corner,  and  there  was  scarce  one 
honest  woman  in  the   whole  of  Jerusalem."     Neither 


152    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

royal  rank,  nor  ecclesiastical  dignity,  restrained  their 
possessors  from  the  prevailing  immorality.  The  widow 
of  the  third  Baldwin  indulged  in  a  criminal  intrigue 
with  Andronicus,  who  afterwards,  on  the  throne  of 
Constantinople,  became  notorious  for  his  cruelties ; 
and  Heraclius,  the  Patriarch,  was  on  such  terms  with 
Pascha  de  Rivera,  wife  of  a  vintner,  that,  at  church 
and  market,  she  wore  ornaments  purchased  with  the 
alms  of  the  faithful,  and  enjoyed,  far  and  wide,  the 
title  of  "  the  Patriarchess." 

It  is  true,  that  in  the  midst  of  profligacy  and  irre- 
ligion,  the  warriors  of  the  cross  preserved  that  courage, 
which  had  so  often  rendered  them  formidable  to  foes. 
But  they  were  at  variance  with  each  other,  incapable 
alike  of  commanding  or  obeying,  and  disinclined  to 
brave  hardships  or  bear  fatigues.  Baldwin  the  Fourth, 
son  of  Almeric,  was  a  youth  of  feeble  health,  totally 
incapable  of  dealing  with  the  difficulties  with  which 
his  throne  was  encompassed  ;  and  a  fierce  dispute 
about  the  regency  divided  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem 
against  itself  At  length,  Raymond,  Count  of  TripoH, 
became  master  of  the  situation,  and  undertook  an 
expedition  to  Egypt.  The  enterprise  proved  unsuc- 
cessful, and  would  have  ended  in  utter  disaster. 
Luckily,  however,  for  the  Christians,  Saladin  was 
then  in  perplexity,  and  consented  to  a  truce.  So 
far  they  escaped  the  consequences  of  their  impru- 
dence, and  had  reason  to  congratulate  themselves  on 
their  good  fortune.  But,  untaught  by  experience,  the 
Christians  had  the  indiscretion  to  violate  the  truce ; 
and  Saladin,  assembling  an  army,  advanced  upon 
Palestine,  and  ravaged  the  country. 


SALADIN    THE    GREAT.  153 

The  fate  of  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem  now  appeared 
to  be  sealed  ;  Baldwin,  apprehending  the  worst,  shut 
himself  up  in  Ascalon,  and  Saladin,  already  anticipating 
victory,  was  distributing  the  cities  among  his  emirs, 
when  despair  gave  to  the  endangered  Christians  a 
dauntless  degree  of  courage.  Avaihng  himself  of 
the  prevalent  enthusiasm,  Baldwin  led  his  army  from 
the  city,  and  attacked  the  Moslem  warriors  with  such 
impetuosity,  that  resistance  was  impossible.  In  vain 
did  Saladin  fight  valiantly  in  the  midst  of  his  Mame- 
lukes ;  the  whole  Moslem  army  was  swept  away,  and 
the  Sultan  had  the  utmost  difficulty  in  escaping  across 
the  desert. 

Baldwm  and  his  barons  were  now  elate  with  success  ; 
but  their  joy  was  of  brief  duration.  Saladin  disdained 
the  idea  of  acknowledging  himself  vanquished.  Ere 
long,  he  again  made  his  appearance  at  the  head  of  a 
new  army,  and  rendered  cautious  by  experience, 
carried  on  the  war  to  such  advantage,  that  Baldwin 
was  fain  to  solicit  a  truce.  Saladin,  imagining,  per- 
haps, that  he  had  taught  his  foes  a  lesson,  consented ; 
and  peace  was  restored.  But  in  the  kingdom  of  Jeru- 
salem, such  was  the  absence  of  order,  that  no  man 
could  answer  for  the  truce  being  maintained  ;  and,  as 
events  proved,  one  man  by  breaking  it,  could  involve 
the  Christian  states  in  fearful  calamities. 

It  appears  that  among  the  warriors  who  followed 
the  banner  of  Louis  of  France  to  the  East,  was  a 
young  man,  with  a  comely  face  and  a  handsome  person, 
known  as  Reginald  de  Chatillon.  Romantic,  adven- 
turous, and  with  no  particular  temptation  to  return 
to    Europe,  Reginald  remained    in  Asia,   and    taking 


154    THE  CBUSADES  AND  THE  CEUSADERS. 

service  with  Raymond  of  Poictiers,  Prince  of  Antioch, 
became  celebrated  for  his  chivahic  bravery.  Mean- 
while, Raymond  of  Poictiers  died  in  a  batttle  with  the 
Saracens ;  and  his  widow,  Constance,  was  eagerly 
pressed  to  bestow  her  hand  on  some  prince  or  noble, 
worthy  of  being  associated  with  her  in  the  govern- 
ment during  her  son's  minority.  But  the  grand- 
daughter of  Boemund  of  Tarentum,  who  naturally 
had  a  will  of  her  own,  passed  over  the  claims  of  a 
host  of  princely  suitors  to  unite  her  fate  with  that  of 
Reginald. 

Elevated  by  the  love  of  a  woman  to  the  throne  of 
Antioch,  Reginald  adopted  the  policy  of  the  princes 
whose  heiress  she  was,  declared  war  against  the 
Sultan  of  Damascus  and  the  Empire  of  Constantinople, 
and  proved  himself  formidable  alike  to  Greek  and 
Saracen.  Taken  prisoner,  however,  he  was  carried 
to  Aleppo,  and  there  lay  in  chains  for  years.  On 
recovering  liberty,  he  found  that  Constance  of  Antioch 
slept  with  her  fathers,  and  that  Boemund,  her  eldest 
son,  having  come  to  years,  occupied  the  throne. 

Finding  his  principality  gone,  Reginald  resolved  on 
restoring  his  fortunes  by  a  second  dash  at  matrimony, 
and  espoused  the  widow  of  the  Lord  of  Carac.  With 
this  lady  he  obtained  some  castles,  situated  between 
Palestine  and  Arabia,  and  had  begun  to  prey  upon  the 
Moslem  territories,  when  the  Christians  concluded  the 
truce  with  Saladin. 

Reginald,  disinclined  to  abandon  a  system  which  he 
expected  would  prove  profitable,  paid  no  attention  to 
the  truce.  While  continuing  his  depredations,  he  hap- 
pened  to   capture   a   caravan,   with    which   was   the 


SALADIN    THE    GEEAT.  155 

mother  of  Saladin,  on  her  way  from  Egypt  to  Damas- 
cus. The  consequences  were  most  unfortunate.  Sa- 
ladin, after  complaming  to  Baldwin,  and  finding  that 
the  Kins;  could  afford  him  no  redress,  seized  fifteen 
hundred  pilgrims  on  the  Egyptian  coast,  and  announced 
his  intention  of  renewing  hostilities. 

At  this  eventful  period,  Baldwin  was  succeeded  by 
the  son  of  his  sister  Sybil.  But  the  young  King,  who 
was  a  mere  infant,  soon  died  so  suddenly  that  he  was 
thought  to  have  had  foul  play,  and  Guy  de  Lusignan, 
Count  of  Joppa,  and  husband  of  Sybil,  ascended  the 
throne,  to  which  liis  wife  was  heiress.  But  the  talents 
of  the  Count  of  Joppa,  who  was  of  the  great  family 
of  Lusignan,  in  Poictou,  were  not  considered  of  the 
highest  order  ;  and  his  elevation  did  not  give  general 
satisfaction.  Even  Geoffrey  de  Lusignan,  the  brother 
of  Guy,  whom  the  chroniclers  describe  as  "  a  man  of 
the  most  approved  valor,"  heard  of  the  proceeding 
with  surprise.  "  What !  "  exclaimed  Geoffrey,  "  Guy 
King  of  Jerusalem!  Why,  the  men  who  think  him 
worthy  to  be  obeyed,  did  they  but  know  me,  would 
deem  me  worthy  to  be  worshipped.  They  would  make 
a  god  of  me." 

Nevertheless  Guy  assumed  the  functions  of  royalty, 
and  determined  to  encounter  the  army  of  Saladin. 
Preparations  were  accordingly  made  ;  and,  after  some 
skirmishino;,  the  Kins;  and  the  Sultan  met  in  the  neiarh- 
borhood  of  Tiberias,  which  Saladin  had  carried  by 
assault.  The  Saracens  were  infinitely  superior  in 
number  ;  but  the  Christian  warriors  were  animated  by 
a  degree  of  fiery  valor,  which  rendered  them  formida- 
ble antagonists,  and  at  the  break  of  a  July  day,  the 


156    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

battle  commenced.  The  Christians,  headed  by  their 
King,  displayed  great  bravery  ;  and,  inspired  by  the 
sight  of  the  true  cross,  which  was  borne  by  the  Bishop 
of  Acre,  they  performed  prodigies  of  valor. 

Night  parted  the  combatants ;  but  next  day  the 
struggle  was  renewed,  and  the  Christians  again  fought 
with  signal  valor.  Saladin,  however,  set  fire  to  the 
grass  that  covered  the  plain,  and  the  warriors  of  the 
cross,  surrounded  and  scorched  by  the  flames,  fell  into 
disorder.  Nevertheless  they  fought  furiously,  and, 
with  lance  in  rest,  charged  through  clouds  of  smoke. 
But  their  onset  proved  vain  ;  the  true  cross  was  taken  ; 
and  the  knights  uttering  cries  of  horror,  rushed  with 
desperation  on  the  weapons  of  their  foes.  The  battle 
became  a  rout.  Raymond  of  Tripoh,  who  had  done 
his  duty  valiantly,  with  the  Prince  of  Antioch,  and  a 
small  number  of  warriors,  cut  a  way  through  the 
Saracens  and  galloped  from  the  field.  But  for  the 
others  there  was  no  escape.  King  Guy,  Geoffrey  de 
Lusignan,  Reginald  de  Chatillon,  the  Grand  Master  of 
the  Temple,  and  the  most  renowned  knights  in  Pales- 
tine, were  made  prisoners,  and  conducted  to  the  tent 
of  the  victor.  Guy  was  treated  with  kindness,  but 
Reginald  de  Chatillon  was  immediately  stabbed  ;  and 
the  Templars  and  Hospitallers  were  next  day  publicly 
executed. 

Saladin  now  proceeded  on  his  victorious  career. 
Acre,  after  a  siege  of  two  days,  yielded  to  his  sum- 
mons ;  and  Ceserea,  Jaifa,  and  Arsuf,  with  many  other 
cities,  shared  Acre's  fate.  Ascalon  alone  offered  a 
brave  resistance  ;  and  the  inhabitants  positively  re- 
fused to  yield,  come  what  might,  unless  Saladin  would 


SALADTN    THE    GREAT.  157 

consent  to  set  Guy  de  Lusignan  at  liberty.  The 
Sultan,  not  without  admiration  of  their  loyalty,  con- 
sented to  liberate  the  captive  King  ere  the  close  of 
the  year.  But  there  was  every  probability,  that,  ere 
the  year  expired,  Guy  would  be  a  king  without  a 
kingdom  and  without  a  capital ;  for  as  the  autumn  of 
1187  advanced,  Saladin,  having  taken  Gaza,  led  his 
victorious  army  over  the  heights  of  Emmaus,  and  dis- 
played his  standards  before  the  gates  of  Jerusalem. 

Within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  a  hundred,  thousand 
human  beings,  most  of  them  fugitives  from  the  con- 
quered provinces,  were  congregated.  But  the  Holy 
City  was  almost  without  defenders.  The  inhabitants 
were  in  despair  ;  and  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,  which  sud- 
denly produced  utter  darkness,  appeared  in  their  eyes 
a  fearful  presage.  Nevertheless  they  prepared  for 
defence  ;  and  under  the  command  of  Baleau  d'  Ibelin, 
an  aged  warrior,  repaired  their  fortifications,  and  even 
ventured  on  a  sortie.  But,  repulsed,  they  returned 
within  the  walls,  carrying  with  them  dismay  and  con- 
sternation. 

One  hope  yet  remained.  The  Sultan  might  not  be 
indisposed  to  show  clemency  to  those  who  were  de- 
fenceless ;  and  the  discovery  of  a  plot  for  surrendering, 
tended  much  to  increase  the  desire  to  capitulate. 
Under  these  circumstances,  Baleau  d'lbelin,  accom- 
panied by  the  principal  citizens,  proceeded  to  the 
Sultan's  tent,  and  proposed  to  surrender  on  certain 
conditions.  Saladin,  however,  was  inexorable.  "How," 
said  he,  "  can  you  ask  me  to  grant  conditions  to  a  city 
which  is  already  taken." 

These  words  restored  to  the  Christians  the  energy  of 
14 


158         THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CKtTSADEES. 

enthusiasm.  "  If,"  said  Baleau,  "  you  can  give  us  no 
hope  of  mercy,  you  will  taste  the  fruits  of  our  despair. 
Jerusalem  contains  five  thousand  Moslem  captives  who 
shall  all  perish.  We  will  slay  our  wives  and  children 
to  prevent  them  becoming  your  slaves ;  and  when  we 
have  reduced  the  Holy  City  to  a  heap  of  ruins,  we 
will  march  out,  armed  with  fire  and  sword,  and  no 
Christian  will  ascend  to  paradise  without  having  con- 
signed ten  Moslems  to  hell." 

The  speech  of  the  old  warrior  had  its  effect  on  the 
Sultan,  and  the  citizens  were  requested  to  come  back 
on  the  following  day.  Saladin  then  intimated  his 
readiness  to  accept  their  terms,  and  agreed  to  a  capitu- 
lation. All  the  warriors  in  Jerusalem  were  allowed 
to  withdraw  to  Tripoli  or  Tyre.  The  inhabitants  were 
granted  their  lives,  and  allowed  to  purchase  their  lib- 
erty. Those  who  could  not,  remained  in  slavery ; 
and  it  appears  that  this  was  the  fate  of  sixteen  thou- 
sand. 

When  the  day  on  which  the  Christians  were  to  leave 
Jerusalem  arrived,  all  the  gates  of  the  city,  save  that 
of  St.  David,  were  shut ;  and  the  Sultan,  seated  on  a 
throne,  saw  them  pass  before  him.  The  Patriarch, 
accompanied  by  the  clergy,  bearing  the  treasures  of 
the  church,  headed  the  procession.  Next  appeared 
the  Queen,  attended  by  knights  and  warriors  ;  and 
following  her  a  multitude  of  men  and  women,  carrying 
their  children  and  supporting  their  aged  relatives,  and 
all  uttcrinn;  cries  of  distress.  Saladin  touched  with 
the  spectacle,  addressed  words  of  consolation  to  the 
Queen,  and  promised  to  soften  the  lot  of  such  of  her 
subjects  as  were  left  behind. 


SALADIX    THE    GREAT.  159 

This  ceremony  over,  the  Sultan  formally  entered 
Jerusalem  as  a  conqueror,  preceded  by  his  banners 
and  surrounded  by  his  imans.  All  the  churches  were 
by  his  orders  converted  into  mosques ;  and  in  the 
vestibule  of  Omar's  mosque,  which  he  caused  to  be 
sprinkled  with  rose-water  brought  from  Damascus,  he 
placed  the  pulpit  that  Noureddin  had  constructed. 
The  cross  was  removed  with  ignomy ;  the  holy  places 
resounded  with  praises  of  the  founder  of  the  Moslem 
faith,  and  from  the  summit  of  the  minarets  the  muez- 
zin, after  sunset,  proclaimed,  "  There  is  but  one  God, 
and  Mahomet  is  Ms  prophet." 


160         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADEKS. 


CHAPTEK    VIII. 


THE    CONEEKENCE    OF    GISORS. 

The  news  of  Saladin  the  Great  having  taken  Jeru- 
salem, filled  Europe  with  surprise  and  consternation. 
The  Pope,  on  receiving  inteUigence  of  the  calamity, 
died  of  grief ;  priests  journeyed  from  place  to  place, 
describing  the  plight  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  trampled 
under  the  hoofs  of  horses ;  and  Christians  of  the 
West  forgot  their  own  troubles  to  bewail  the  woes  of 
the  Christians  of  the  East. 

It  had  for  some  time  been  evident  that  the  kingdom 
of  Jerusalem  could  not  be  saved  without  aid  from  the 
warriors  of  Europe  ;  and  William,  Archbishop  of  Tyre, 
author  of  a  history  of  the  Holy  War,  left  the  East  to 
preach  a  crusade.  After  rousing  the  Italians,  and  per- 
suading Frederick  Barbarossa,  the  great  Emperor  of 
Germany,  to  take  the  cross,  William  of  Tyre  pressed 
onward  to  try  his  powers  of  persuasion  on  the  sover- 
eio;ns  of  England  and  France. 

Henry  Plantagenet  and  Philip  Augustus  were  then 
at  war.  Nevertheless,  a  conference  was  appointed  to 
take  place  on  a  plain  near  Gisors,  and  thither  the  King 
of  England,  then  in  his  fifty-sixth  year,  and  the  King 
of  France,  not  yet  thirty,  came  to  meet  the  Arch- 
bishop, with  companies  of  knights,  barons,  and  princes. 


THE    CONFEKENCE    OF    GISORS.  161 

all  eager  to  hear  tidings  from  the  East,  and  none  of 
them  disinclined  to  encounter  the  infidel. 

After  reaching  the  ground,  and  presenting  himself 
to  the  assembly,  the  Archbishop  read  the  warriors  an 
account  of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  ;  he  then  delivered 
an  eloquent  address,  reproaching  them  for  not  having 
gone  to  save  Christ's  heritage,  and  exhorting  them  to 
hasten  to  its  rescue.  His  eloquence  proved  most 
effective.  Henry  and  Philip,  embracing  in  presence 
of  the  assembled  warriors,  agreed  to  suspend  their 
quarrels  to  combat  the  enemies  of  Christ ;  and  from 
all  present  arose  shouts  of  "  The  cross ! "  "  The 
cross  !  " 

The  cry  thus  raised  around  an  elm-tree  on  the  plain 
of  Gisors,  where  a  church  was  soon  after  built  to  com- 
memorate the  scene,  was  carried  from  city  to  city,  and 
from  province  to  province.  The  old  spirit,  in  fact, 
revived  —  mothers  urged  their  sons,  and  wives  urged 
their  husbands,  to  devote  themselves  to  the  Holy  War  ; 
and  persons  suspected  of  a  wish  to  hang  back,  received 
a  distaff  and  wool,  as  a  significant  hint  that  whoever 
dechned  would  forfeit  his  title  to  be  recognized  as  a 
man.  At  the  same  time,  in  order  to  defray  the  cost 
of  the  enterprise,  a  council  of  prelates  and  princes 
condemned  all  who  did  not  take  the  cross  to  contribute 
a  tithe  of  their  revenues  ;  and  this  tax,  from  the  alarm 
associated  with  the  name  of  the  great  Sultan,  soon 
came  to  be  described  as  "  the  Saladin  tenth." 

William  of  Tyre   could  now  indulge  in  some  hope 

for  Jerusalem.    The  three  most  potent  of  the  European 

sovereigns  —  those  of  Germany,  England,  and  Frimcc 

—  had  pledged  themselves  to  fight  lor  the  Holy  Sep- 
14* 


162         THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADEKS. 

ulchre,  and  all  their  subjects  were  astir  with  excite- 
ment and  bustle.  The  expedition,  indeed,  met  with 
some  checks.  Ere  preparations  were  well  begun, 
war  broke  out  again  in  Europe  ;  and  ere  they  were 
completed,  Henry,  worn  out  with  war  and  weary  with 
thought,  breathed  his  last  at  Chinon,  and  was  succeed- 
ed by  his  eldest  surviving  son,  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion. 
The  crusade,  however,  cannot  be  said  to  have  suffered 
by  the  substitution  of  the  son  for  the  father.  What 
was  lost  in  wisdom  was  gained  in  vigor.  Coeur  de  Lion 
had  been  among  the  first  to  take  the  cross  at  Gisors, 
and  of  all  those  who  placed  the  sacred  badge  on  their 
shoulder,  he  was  the  most  enthusiastic  and  eager.  Pal- 
estine, in  fact,  had  become  Richard's  one  idea  ;  and 
English  armorers  were  Ibrging  for  him  a  ponderous 
battle-axe,  and  working  twenty  pounds  of  steel  into 
the  head  of  the  weapon,  that  he  might  therewith  break 
the  bones  of  Saracens. 


FREDERICK    BAREAROSSA.  1G3 


CHAPTER   IX. 


FREDERICK    BARBAROSSA. 


While,  in  England  and  France,  warriors  were 
girding  on  their  armor  for  the  crusade,  Frederick,  Em- 
peror of  Germany,  the  hero  of  forty  figlits  in  Europe, 
took  the  cross,  and  prepared  to  strike  a  blow  in  Asia 
for  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Frederick  Barbarossa  was  nephew  of  the  Emperor 
Conrad,  who  had  enacted  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the 
crusade  preached  by  St.  Bernard.  At  that  time,  in 
the  vigor  of  youth,  and  unmoved  by  the  tears  of  his 
father,  the  Duke  of  Suabia,  who  earnestly  implored 
him  to  remain  at  home,  Frederick  had  accompanied 
his  imperial  uncle,  and  signalized  his  prowess  in  the 
skirmishes  with  which  the  unfortunate  enterprise 
commenced.  After  the  death  of  Conrad,  in  1152,  he 
ascended  the  throne  and  entered  upon  his  career. 

At  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  Frederick  was  en- 
compassed with  difficulty  ;  and  the  Pope  was  by  no 
means  in  humor  to  smoothe  the  Emperor's  way.  In 
fact,  Adrian  the  Fourth,  originally  known  as  Nicholas 
Breakspeare,  an  English  mendicant,  refused  to  perform 
the  ceremony  of  coronation  without  imposing  a  con- 
dition hard  to  bear.  "  You  must,"  said  the  Pope, 
"  prove  yourself  a  faithful  son  of  the  church  by  hold- 


1G4    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADEKS. 

ing  my  stirrup  while  I  mount  my  mule."  Frederick 
reluctantly  consented ;  and  the  Pope  and  his  mule  met 
publicly  in  the  great  square '  of  Yiterbo,  a  town  sur- 
rounded by  walls  built  by  the  last  of  the  Lombard  Ivings. 
All  was  going  smoothly  ;  but  the  Emperor  purposely 
mistook  the  stirrup.  "  I  have  yet,"  he  remarked  with 
a  sneer;  "I  have  yet  to  learn  the  business  of  a 
groom." 

Havino;  settled  the  affairs  of  Germany,  Frederick 
Barbarossa  applied  his  energies  to  the  reduction  of 
Italy.  The  task  was  most  difficult,  and  appeared 
endless.  The  JMilanese,  in  particular,  proved  most 
refractory ;  and,  supported  by  the  Pope,  they  main- 
tained so  long  and  arduous  a  struggle,  as  to  keep  the 
Emperor  perpetually  in  his  harness.^'- 

Forty  years  had  passed  since  Frederick  accom- 
panied Conrad  to  the  East  ;  and  the  great  Emperor 
had  reached  the  age  of  threescore  and  ten,  and  become 
famous  as  the  most  illustrious  personage  in  Europe. 
A  man  of  ordinary  height,  with  broad  shoulders,  and 
a  manly  form,  a  red  beard,  hair  partly  gray,  prominent 
eyelids,  short  and  wide  cheeks,  an  expression  indica- 
ting remarkable  firmness  of  mind  —  speaking  German, 
thoufjh  not  io;norant  of  other  languages — such  was 
Frederick  Barbarossa,  when, "  at  seventy  years  of  age, 

*  "  Kaiser  Frledrich,"  says  Mr,  Carlyle,  "  had  immense  dif- 
ficulties with  his  Popes,  with  his  Milanese,  and  the  like  ;•  be- 
sieged !Milan  six  times  over,  among  other  anarchies  ;  had, 
indeed,  a  heavily-laden,  hard  time  of  it,  his  task  being  great 
and  the  greatest.  He  made  Gebhardus,  the  anarchic  governor 
of  Milan,  lie  chained  under  his  table,  like  a  dog,  for  three  days." 
History  of  Frledrich  the  Second. 


FREDERICK    13ARBAR0SSA.  165 

liaving  one  foot  in  the  grave,"  he  set  out  once  more  to 
combat  th5  infidel. 

After  sending  a  declaration  of  war  to  Saladin,  and 
receiving  from  the  Sultan  a  haughty  defiance,  Fred- 
erick set  up  his  standard  at  Mayencc ;  and,  having 
been  joined  by  Leopold,  Duke  of  Austria,  and  other 
princes  of  the  empire,  he  marched  with  his  second  son, 
the  Duke  of  Suabia,  towards  Constantinople,  where 
Isaac  Angelus  then  reigned.  At  first,  the  Emperor  of 
the  East  ordered  the  governors  of  his  states  to  harass 
the  crusading  army ;  but  finding,  after  some  skir- 
mishes, that  Frederick  could  not  be  thus  treated  with 
impunity,  Isaac  came  to  reason,  and  sent  ambassadors 
with  an  offer  of  ships  and  provisions.  Nevertheless, 
he  formed  an  alliance  with  Saladin  ;  and,  in  various 
ways,  made  the  rival  Caesar  feel  the  effects  of  his 
perfidy. 

Europe  left  behind,  and  the  Hellespont  crossed, 
Frederick  Barbarossa  arrived  among  the  Turks,  and 
found  a  ^ew  foe  in  the  Sultan  of  Iconium.  Having 
been  as  lavish  of  his  promises  as  the  Greek  Emperor, 
the  Sultan  proved  not  less  perfidious.  No  sooner  had 
the  crusaders  reached  the  Meander,  than  they  began 
to  comprehend  their  situation.  The  banks  of  the  river, 
the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and  the  surrounding  thick- 
ets, were  defended  by  the  Sultan's  soldiers  ;  and  when 
the  German  warriors  attempted  to  pass,  they  were 
assailed  on  all  sides  by  arrows  and  javelins. 

The  crusaders  were  about  to  ford  the  Meander, 
when  they  learned  that  the  Duke  of  Suabia,  who  led 
the  van,  was  missing,  and  supposed  him  to  be  dead. 
But  the  Emperor's  piety  and  courage  were  proof  even 


166  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

against  such  tidings  of  calamity.  "  Woe  is  mc  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  "  my  son  is  slain  ;  but  Christ  lives-.  On, 
my  men !  "  Encouraged  by  the  words  of  their  aged 
chief,  soldiers'  and  men  charged  through  the  stream, 
bearing  down  all  opposition,  and  slaughtering  the 
Turks  in  such  numbers,  that  their  corpses  covered  the 
passage  they  had  been  ordered  to  defend. 

This  victory  achieved,  Frederick  Barbarossa  and 
his  soldiers  proceeded  on  their  way.  But  they  were, 
ere  long,  involved  in  serious  difficulty  and  distress. 
Not-  only  were  they  exposed  to  cold,  hunger,  and 
famine,  but  to  constant  attacks  by  the  Sultan's  troops, 
who  harassed  them  night  and  day.  At  length,  to  avert 
still  worse  evils,  Frederick  determined  to  besiege  Icon- 
ium  ;  and  directed  his  march  towards  that  city. 

It  was  about  the  feast  of  Pentecost  when  the  Empe- 
ror of  Germany,  after  having  overcome  thousands  of 
dangers,  arrived  before  Iconium,  within  the  walls  of 
which  the  Sultan  had  shut  himself.  At  first,  matters 
were  somewhat  alarming.  Scarcely,  indeed,  had  the 
crusaders  encamped,  when  a  fearful  storm  burst  upon 
their  camp  ;  and  when  next  morning  dawned,  the 
Turks,  led  by  the  Sultan's  son,  came  forth  in  such 
numbers,  that  defeat  appeared  inevitable.  The  Em- 
peror, however,  was  undaunted.  "  I  thank  God,"  he 
exclaimed,  raising  his  hands  in  the  sight  of  all,  "  that 
the  battle  so  long  delayed  by  the  flight  of  our  foes,  is 
now  about  to  be  fou2;ht." 

The  courage  of  Frederick  was  not  lost  upon  his 
troops.  Inspired  by  the  sight  of  his  countenance,  so 
calm  in  the  midst  of  danger,  they  shouted  their  battle- 
cry,  and  came  hand  to  hand  with  the  foe.     Nothing 


FKEDERICK    BARBAKOSSA.  167\ 

could  resist  the  onset,  and  ere  the  combat  had  long 
continued,  heaps  of  Turks  lay  slain  around.  The  city 
yielded  without  delay ;  and  the  Germans  entered, 
with  swords  in  their  hands  and  vengeance  at  their 
hearts,  the  capital  in  which  they  had  been  promised 
provisions  and  peace. 

Meanwhile,  the  Sultan  of  Iconium  ascended  a  lofty 
tower,  and  thence  viewed  the  country  around  and  the 
hostile  armies.  Seeing  that  fortune  was  against  him, 
and  that  his  host  was  vanquished,  the  Sultan  sent 
messengers  to  the  Emperor  throwing  all  the  blame  of 
hostilities  on  his  son,  and  promising  to  do  whatever 
was  required.  A  treaty  was  accordingly  negotiated, 
and  hostages  given  by  the  Sultan  for  its  fulfilment. 

The  capture  of  Iconium  changed,  for  the  better,  the 
situation  of  the  crusaders  ;  and,  as  the  fame  of  their 
exploits  spread  through  the  East,  the  Armenians  sent 
to  solicit  the  Emperor's  alliance.  The  progress  of  the 
German  army  was  then  rapid  and  victorious  ;  and 
their  discipline  excited  such  admiration,  and  was  re- 
ported in  such  terms  to  Saladin,  that  he  began  to 
quake  at  their  approach.  Everything,  in  fact,  so  far 
as  the  Germans  were  concerned,  looked  promising, 
and  they  had  already  begun  to  indulge  in  visions  of 
victory,  when  one  day  they  reached  the  Selcf,  a  little 
river,  which  rises  in  the  mountains  of  Isauria,  and 
washes  the  walls  of  Sclucia. 

On  that  day,  however,  a  melancholy  event  swept  all 
visions  of  conquest  away.  It  was  ordered  that  the 
great  Emperor  should  never  reach  the  opposite  bank 
alive.  No  danger,  indeed,  appeared  to  impend.  While 
the  sampler  horses  and   baggage   were  passing  over, 


1G8    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

Frederick  halted  near  a  rock,  on  which  was  inscribed 
the  words,  "  Here  the  greatest  of  men  shall  perish." 
Becoming  impatient,  and  wishing  to  accelerate  the 
march,  the  Emperor  dashed  into  the  stream  at  the 
nearest  point,  with  the  idea  of  getting  before  the  sump- 
ter  horses,  and  pursuing  his  march  at  the  head  of  his 
army.  The  stream,  however,  proved  too  much  for 
the  aged  warrior  ;  and,  carried  down  by  its  force,  he 
struck  his  head  against  a  tree,  and  falling  from  his 
horse,  was  immersed  in  the  water.  A  cry  of  horror 
instantly  rose,  and  hundreds  of  men  rushed  to  the 
rescue.  But  when  dragged  out,  Frederick  was  quite 
benumbed,  and  he  almost  instantly  expired.  His  death 
filled  the  crusading  army  with  dismay  ;  and  while  some 
of  the  German  warriors  continued  their  expedition 
towards  Antioch,  under  the  Duke  of  Suabia,  others, 
discouraged  and  despairing,  deserted  their  standard, 
and  returned  home. 

•  The  news  of  the  death  of  the  great  Emperor,  on 
reaching  Germany,  caused  the  utmost  grief;  and 
many  of  his  subjects  refused  to  beheve  that  he  was 
no  more.  Even  now,  German  tradition  asserts  that 
Frederick  is  not  dead,  but  sleepmg  in  a  rocky  cavern 
in  the  hills  near  Salzburg,  ready  to  appear  once  more 
on  earth  when  things  come  to  the  worst.  It  is  added, 
that  a  peasant  once  stumbling  among  the  rocks,  en- 
tered the  cavern,  and  saw  the  Emperor  seated  at,  and 
leaning  his  elbow  on  a  marble  table,  through  which  his 
beard  had  grown  in  such  a  way  as  to  stream  on  the 
floor.  He  was  half  awake  ;  and  looking  up,  he  in- 
quired what  time  it  was;  and,  on  receiving  an  answer, 
said  —  "  Not  time  yet  ;  but  will  be  soon." 


FKEDERICK    BAKBAROSSA. 


169 


Well  nigh  seven  centuries  ago,  however,  the  funeral 
rites  of.  Frederick  Barbarossa  were  performed  on  the 
banks  of  the  Selef.  The  body,  after  being  adorned 
with  royal  magnificence,  was  conveyed  to  Antioch, 
and  there  the  flesh,  having  been  boiled  from  the  bones, 
was  laid  in  the  Church  of  the  Apostolic  See,  while  the 
bones  were  sent  by  sea 'to  Tyre,  that  they  might 
thence  be  conveyed  to  Jerusalem.  It  was  ordained, 
however,  that  Frederick  should  not  find  a  resting-place 
in  the  Holy  City  he  had  vowed  to  rescue ;  for,  at 
Tyre,  the  good  Archbishop  buried  the  remains  of  the 
great  Emperor  with  becoming  solemnity,  and  pro- 
nounced a  funeral  oration  worthy  of  the  obsequies  of 
a  monarch  of  whom  Christendom  had  been  proud. 


15 


170    THE  CEUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADEHS. 


CHAPTER    X. 


THE    TOYAGE    OF    CCEIJR   DE    LION. 

Whex  Henry,  King  of  England,  died  of  grief  and 
weariness  at  the  palace  of  the  Plantagenets,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Loire,  Richard  CcEur  de  Lion  had  reached 
the  age  of  thirty-two,  and  won  high  renown  among 
the  warriors  of  his  generation.  His  appearance  was 
such  as  to  give  the  idea  of  a  man  frank  in  friendship 
and  formidable  in  war.  His  form  was  bulky  and 
strong;  his  limbs  long,  but  finely  proportioned;  and 
he  had  a  fair  face,  set  off  with  bright  blue  eyes  and 
auburn  hair,  which  he  wore  in  curls.  Array  such  a 
personage  in  a  tunic  of  rose-colored  satin,  girded  at 
the  waist,  with  a  mantle  of  striped  silver  tissue  bro- 
caded with  half  moons ;  hang  at  his  belt  a  sword  of 
Damascus  steel,  with  a  golden  hilt,  in  a  silver-scaled 
sheath  ;  place  on  his  head  a  scarlet  bonnet,  brocaded 
with  gold ;  mount  him  on  a  Spanish  steed,  magnifi- 
cently harnessed ;  and  you  will  have  some  idea  of 
Coeur  de  Lion,  as  he  appeared  to  those  contemporaries 
in  whose  company  he  went  to  do  battle  with  the 
mfidel. 

Richard  was  a  native  of  England,  having  first  seen 


THE    TOYAGE    OF    CGEUH    DE    LION.  171 

the  light  at  Beaumont,  near  Oxford.  During  his 
father's  Hfe  he  had  been  the  most  refractory  of  sons, 
and  taken  a  prominent  part  in  those  parricidal  wars, 
which  brought  down  our  first  Plantagenet  King  with 
sorrow  to  the  grave.  However,  when  the  corpse  of 
Henry  was  on  its  Avay  from  Chinon  to  its  resting- 
place,  Richard,  touched  with  remorse,  met  the  proces- 
sion, and  with  signs  of  contrition  accompanied  the 
funeral  to  the  abbey  of  Foutrevault,  and  made  some 
slight  atonement  Tor  breaches  of  filial  duty  by  praying 
at  the  side  of  his  father's  corpse. 

A  few  months  after  Henry  had  departed  this  life, 
Richard  was  welcomed  in  England,  and  invested  with 
the  symbols  of  sovereignty  at  Westminster.  The 
coronation  was  rendered  memorable  by  a  fearful  mas- 
sacre of  the  Jews,  which  began  in  London  and 
extended  all  over  England.^*'  Richard  issued  a  pro- 
clamation taking  the  Jews  under  his  protection  ;  but 
he  was  in  no  frame  of  mind  to  exert  himself  much  in 
their  behalf.  Ever  since  the  conference  of  Gisors,  he 
had  been  occupied  with  visions  of  battles  in  Palestine ; 

*  "On  the  very  clay  of  the  coronation,"  says  Richard  of 
Devizes,  "  about  that  solemn  hour  in  which  the  Son  was  immo- 
lated to  the  Father,  a  sacrifice  of  the  Jews  to  their  father  the 
devil  was  commenced  in  the  city  of  London ;  and  so  long  was 
the  duration  of  this  famous  mystery,  that  the  holocaust  could 
scarcely  be  accomplished  on  the  ensuing  day.  The  other  cities 
and  towns  of  the  kingdom  emulated  the  faith  of  the  Londoners, 
and  with  a  like  devotion  despatched  their  bloodsuckers  with 
blood  to  hell,  everywhere  throughout  the  realm  :  only  Winches- 
ter alone,  the  people  being  prudent  and  circumspect,  and  the 
city  always  acting  mildly,  spared  its  vermin.  —  Chronicles  of 
the  Crusades, 


172    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

and  no  sooner  was  the  Confessor's  crown  placed  on 
his  head,  than  he  bent  his  whole  thoughts  towards 
the  East.  Not  content  with  the  money  exacted  by 
his  father  as  "  the  Saladin  tenth,"  he  turned  his 
presence-chamber  into  a  mart,  and  disposed  of  towns, 
castles,  and  demesne-lands  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Some  of  his  ministers  remonstrated,  but  in  vain.  "  If 
I  could  find  a  proper  purchaser,"  he  said,  "  I  would 
sell  London  itself."  Having  disposed  of  the  earldom 
of  Northumberland  to  Hugh  Pudsey,  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, he  jocosely  boasted  that  "  he  had  made  a  young 
earl  out  of  an  old  bishop." 

While  occupied  with  the  task  of  raising  money  for 
the  crusade,  Richard  was  reminded  by  a  messenger 
from  Philip  that  their  departure  was^  fixed  for  Eas^r, 
1190.__The  King  of  England  engaged  upon  oath  to  be 
ready  at  the  time  named  ;  and,  having  nominated  the 
Bishop  of  Durham  as  regent,  repaired  to  Normandy, 
and  held  a  great  council  at  Rouen.  The  departure  of 
the  two  Kings  was  then  postponed  to  midsummer, 
when  their  magnificent  armies  mustered  on  the  plains 
of  Vezelay,  and  moved  in  company  to  Lyons.  There 
they  parted — Philip  to  betake  himself  to  Genoa, 
where  he  hoped  to  hire  transports  ;  Richard  to  march 
down  the  Rhone  to_J\Iarseilles,  where  he  expected  to 
meet  the  English  fleet. 

Between  the  time  of  his  meeting  with  William  of 
Tyre  at  Gisors  and  his  death  in  the  palace  of  Chinon, 
Henry  had  built  ships  for  his  voyage  to  the  East. 
Richard  was  thus  enabled,  besides  other  vessels  of 
war,  to  launch  fifty  galleys  of  three  banks  of  oars, 
and   he  moreover  selected   transports  from  the  ship- 


THE    VOYAGE    OF    CCEUR    DE    LION.  173 

ping  in  all  his  ports.  The  English  King  found  him- 
self, unlike  other  sovereigns,  quite  independent  of 
Venice  or  Genoa,  and  had,  in  fact,  at  his  com- 
mand the  most  formidable  fleet  that  Europe  had  ever 
seen. 

It  was  from  Dartmouth  that  the  English  ships  sailed, 
with  a  magnificent  display  of  banners  and  painted 
shields.  Their  voyage,  however,  was  not  fortunate. 
While  crossing  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  the  ships  were 
scattered  in  all  directions  ;  and  many  of  them  suffered 
so  fearfully  from  the  tempest  and  the  waves,  that  their 
ultimate  safety  was  ascribed  to  the  interference  of  St. 
Edmund  and  Thomas  a  Becket. 

Richard,  on  reaching  Marseilles,  learned  with  dis- 
appointment that  the  English  fleet  had  not  arrived. 
After  waiting  some  days,  his  patience  gave  way  ;  and 
having  hired  galleys  to  convey  him  to  Genoa,  he  went 
on  board,  leaving  the  bulk  of  his  army  to  embark  for 
Sicily.  Havincp  sailed  into  the  river  Arno,  and  visited 
Pisa,  he  proceeded  to  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  and 
was  there  met  by  a  Cardinal,  who  welcomed  him  to 
the  papal  territories.  The  interview  between  Cceur 
de  Lion  and  the  Cardinal  was  not  altogether  satisfac- 
tory. The  Cardinal,  unfortunately,  asked  payment  of 
some  dues  ;  and  the  King,  in  a  rage,  abused  him,  with- 
out regard  to  his  spiritual  character.  Declining  to  visit 
Rome,  Richard  repaired  to  Naples,  and  rode  up  a 
lovely  pass  of  the  Appenines  to  Salerno. 

AVhen   Coeur   de    Lion    entered  Calabria,   and  was 

passing  through  a  village,  unattended  save  by  a  single 

knight,  he   was  informed   that   one   of  the  inhabitants 

possessed  a  very  fine  hawk.     The  King,  wanting  some 

15* 


174  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

exciting  sport,  and  understanding  that  the  owner  was 
merely  a  peasant,  who  had  no  right  to  keep  such  a 
bird,  entered  the  man's  tenement  and  seized  it.  The 
Calabrian  rustic,  not  rehshing  the  loss  of  his  hawk, 
ran  after  the  King,  with  the  cry  of  *•' Stop  thief!" 
The  neighbors  came  to  the  spot  with  stones  and  sticks, 
and  one  of  them  with  a  sword  made  a  thrust  at  Rich- 
ard, who  still  kept  the  bird  on  his  wrist.  Enraged, 
Coeur  de  Lion  struck  the  peasant  with  the  back  of  his 
sword  ;  and  the  blade  breaking,  he  was  in  a  helpless 
predicament,  and  forced  to  fly  for  his  life  to  a  priory. 
Reaching  the  coast,  he  pitched  his  tent  near  the  cav- 
ern of  Scylla  ;  and  next  day,  the  fleet  having  ap- 
peared, with  sounds  of  trumpets  and  clang  of  horns, 
he  entered  the  port  of  Messina,  where  the  French 
King  had  already  arrived. 

Philip  Augustus  now   proposed   to  proceed  to  the 
East ;  but,  the  winds  proving  contrary,  the  crusaders 
determined    upon    w^intering   of    Sicily.     William    the 
Good,  the   last   of  the  Norman   rulers  in   Sicily,  had 
recently  died,  under  the  impression  that  his  aunt,  the 
Princess   Constance,  would   succeed,  and   that   Queen 
Joan,    his    widow,   who    was   Richard's    sister,   would 
enjoy  a   magnificent  dower.     But   so   strong  was  the 
prejudice  against  the  government  of  women,  that  Tan- 
cred,  an  illegitimate  scion  of  the  royal  house  of  Sicily, 
had    not    only    seized    the    throne    of    Constance,  but 
withheld  Joan's   dower,  and   placed  the  royal  widow 
in  durance.     Richard,  indignant  at  his  sister   being  so 
treated,    demanded    that    she    should    be    restored    to 
liberty,  and   that    she    should    be    paid    her    dower. 
Tancred,   complying  with   one  demand,  sent  Joan  to 


THE    VOYAGE    OF    CCEUR    DE    LION.  175 

Messina ;    but    hesitated  about   the    dower.     Richard, 
not  to   be  trifled   with,  crossed   the   strahs,  placed   his 
sister   iii    the    Castle    of    Baynard,   and    returning   to 
Messina,  expelled   the   monks    from   a   monastery,  and 
converted  it  into  a  store-house.     Next  day,  when  his 
soldiers  were  strolling  through  the  town,  they  were  set 
upon   by   the    inhabitants,    who    killed    them    without 
mercy,  and  closed  the   gates   of  the  town.     The  cru- 
saders, enraged  at   this   outrage,  were   about   to   scale 
the    walls ;    but    Richard,    riding    among    them,    com- 
pelled them  to   fall   back  ;    and  going   to   the   French 
camp,  he  there  had  an  interview  with  the  magistrates, 
and  obtained  promises  of  redress. 

But,  ere  this,  mischief  had  appeared  in  another 
form.  The  English  crusaders  had  begun  to  quarrel 
w^ith  those  from  France  ;  and  Philip,  with  the  chief 
men  of  Messina,  repaired  to  the  English  King's  tent 
to  complain  and  remonstrate.  Richard  was  promis- 
ing redress,  when  the  conference  was  interrupted  in 
a  way  which  made  his  blood  boil.  In  fact,  while 
the  Kings  were  in  council,  a  band  of  Sicilians,  gather- 
ing on  the  hills  over  the  English  camp,  threatened 
an  assault,  and  wounded  a  knight  of  Normandy, 
whom  chance  threw  m  their  way.  The  sight  kindled 
Richard's  ire,  and,  rushing  out,  w^ith  vows  of  ven- 
geance, he  led  his  soldiers  up  the  hillside,  repulsed 
the  SiciUans,  chased  them  to  their  gates,  and  taking 
the  city  by  storm,  planted  the  flag  of  England  on 
the  highest  tower.  The  French,  however,  lent  no 
assistance  ;  and  Philip,  who  seemed  rather  inclined  to 
take  part  with  the  Sicilians,  expressed  such  indignation, 
that  Richard  was  under  the  necessity  of  lowering  his 


176  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

standard  and  committing  the  city  to  the  Templars  and 
Knifrhts  of  St.  John. 

Tancred  now  began  to  comprehend  the  man  with 
whom  he  had  to  deal.  Warned  by  the  past,  the 
SiciUan  King  came  to  terms,  paid  a  large  part  of 
Joan's  demand,  and  plighted  the  hand  of  his  infant 
daughter  to  Richard's  nephew,  Arthur,  Duke  of  Brit- 
tany. But  the  winter,  though  enlivened  by  a  mag- 
nificent banquet,  which  Richard  gave  at  Christmas, 
wore  slowly  away  ;  and  disputes  soon  broke  out  be- 
tween the  Kincps. 

When  a  boy,  Richard  had  been  contracted  in  mar- 
riage to  Alice,  Philip's  sister,  and  the  Princess  with 
her  dowry,  had  been  placed  in  Henry's  custody. 
Engaged  in  war,  Richard  paid  little  attention  to  his 
betrothed  ;  and  it  was  not  till  incited  by  his  mother, 
that  he  demanded  her  hand.  Henry,  however,  ex- 
hibited no  inclination  to  grant  his  son's  request  ;  and 
Richard,  while  taking  part  in  a  tournament  at  Pampe- 
luna,  became  enamored  of  Berengaria,  daughter  of 
the  Kino;  of  Navarre.  On  ascending;  the  English 
throne,  he  deputed  his  mother  to  demand  Berengaria 
in  marriage  ;  and  the  mission  having  been  crowned 
with  success,  Berengaria  arrived  at  Messina,  and  was 
placed  under  the  protection  of  Queen  Joan.  Philip, 
on  seeing  this,  charged  Richard,  with  breach  of  a 
matrimonial  treaty ;  and  Richard,  putting  aside  all 
delicacy,  informed  Philip,  that  Alice  had  wrecked  her 
maiden  reputation  by  a  scandalous  intrigue.  High 
words,  of  course,  passed  between  the  comrades-in- 
arms ;  but  at  length,  when  spring  arrived,  Philip, 
finding  that  the  case  would  not  bear  discussion,  com- 


THE    VOYAGE    OF    CCEUIl    DE    LION.  177 

pounded  the  dispute  for  a  sum  of  money,  and  leaving 
the  Enghsh  King  to  celebrate  his  marriage,  set  sail  for 
Acre. 

After  the  departure  of  Philip,  Richard  became  too 
enthusiastic  to  delay  his  enterprise  for  his  wedding  ; 
and  embarking  in  one  galley,  while  Berengaria,  under 
the  auspices  of  Queen  Joan,  embarked  in  another,  he 
sailed  for  the  Holy  Land.  The  voyage  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  tempest  which  scattered  the  fleet,  and 
Richard  reached  Rhodes  without  his  bride,  whose 
galley  had  taken  refuge  at  Cyprus.  Richard,  learn- 
ing that  two  of  his  ships  had  been  maltreated  at 
Cyprus,  sailed  thither  with  his  fleet ;  and  no  sooner 
did  he  recognize  the  galley  in  which  Berengaria  and 
Queen  Joan  were,  than  he  concluded  they  had  been 
injured,  and  vowed  vengeance  on  the  islanders. 

Cyprus  was  inhabited  by  Greeks,  and  governed 
by  a  prince  of  imperial  lineage,  who  styled  himself 
"  Isaac,  Emperor  of  Cyprus."  With  an  idea  of  re- 
sisting the  crusaders,  this  potentate  ranged  his  troops 
along  the  shore,  and  placed  some  galleys  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor.  But  his  bravado  had  not  the  in- 
tended effect.  Hardly,  indeed,  had  Richard  become 
aware  that  he  was  defied,  when  he  siezed  his  ponder- 
ous battle-axe,  leaped  into  a  boat,  and  chasing  the 
Emperor  to  Nicosia,  took  possession  of  Limisso.  Next 
morning,  however,  Isaac  sent  to  sue  for  peace  ;  and 
Richard  expressing  his  readiness  to  negotiate,  met 
the  Emperor  outside  the  city.  A  reconciliation  then 
took  place  ;  and  Isaac  engaged  to  pay  Richard  a  large 
sum  in  gold,  to  follow  the  English  to  Palestine  with  a 


178  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADERS. 

well-appointed  force,  and  to  give  his  youthful  daughter 
as  a  hostage  for  his  good  faith. 

Matters  had  scarcely  been  thus  arranged,  when 
Isaac  escaped,  and  again  attempted  resistance.  But 
Richard  was  not  to  be  baffled.  After  cutting  off 
the  wily  Greek's  flight  by  sea,  the  English  King 
marched  upon  the  capital,  and  took  Isaac's  daughter 
prisoner.  This  last  circumstance  was  too  much  for 
the  Emperor  of  Cyprus.  He  left  his  stronghold, 
threw  himself  at  the  King's  feet,  and  offered  his 
own  life  for  his  child's  freedom.  Richard,  while  de- 
taining the  Princess,  ordered  her  father  to  be  put 
in  chains.  The  crestfallen  Cypriot  entreated  that  he 
might  not  be  disgraced  by  bonds  of  iron,  and  Richard, 
laughing,  ordered  chains  of  silver  to  be  forged  for  the 
imperial  captive. 

No  pity  appears  to  have  been  felt  for  Isaac,  when 
thus  deprived  of  his  crown  and  liberty.  Indeed, 
Geoffrey  de  Yinsauf,  an  Anglo-Norman  monk,  who 
accompanied  the  crusaders,  and  wrote,  in  their  camp, 
a  history  of  the  expedition,  treats  the  Emperor  as  the 
worst  of  human  beings.  "  He  was  the  most  wicked 
of  men,"  says  Yinsauf,  "  surpassing  Judas  in  trea- 
chery, and  wantonly  persecuting  all  who  professed  the 
Christian  relio;ion.  He  was  said  to  be  a  friend  of 
Saladin,  and  it  was  reported  that  they  had  drunk 
each  other's  blood,  as  a  sim  and  testimony  of  mutual 
treaty,  as  if,  by  the  mingling  of  blood  outwardly,  they 
might  become  kinsmen  in  reality." 

Having  reduced  Cyprus,  Richard  resolved  on  being 
crowned  king  of  the  island,  and  remaining  to  solemnize 


THE    VOYAGE    OF    CCEUB.    DE    LIOX.  179 

his  marriage.  A  grand  feast  was  accordingly  pro- 
claimed ;  and  wlien  Bcrengaria  had,  in  the  month  of 
May,  become  Queen  of  England,  the  English  crusa- 
ders embarked  in  their  vessels,  hoisted  their  sails,  and 
steered  for  Acre. 


i80  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ACRE. 


Among  the  cities  of  the  East,  Acre,  situated  on  a 
promontory  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Carmel,  and  washed 
by  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  was  one  of  the 
most  important  in  the  eyes  of  the  crusaders.  Sur- 
rounded on  the  land  side  with  deep  ditches,  fortified 
with  high  walls  and  strong  towers,  that  dominated 
over  promontory  and  plain,  and  frequented  by  marmers 
and  merchants  from  all  parts  of  Europe  and  Asia,  the 
capture  and  recovery  of  the  place  might  well  engage 
the  attention  of  warriors.  Accordingly  Saladin,  after 
his  victory  at  Tiberias,  hastened  to  make  himself  master 
of  Acre  ;  and  Guy  de  Lusignan,  on  regaining  liberty, 
devoted  his  whole  energies  to  the  task  of  wresting  it 
from  Saladin's  grasp. 

The  siege  of  Acre  commenced  in  the  autumn  of 
1189.  Guy  de  Lusignan  at  first  had  not  more  than 
nine  thousand  men  under  his  banner ;  and  Saladin 
treated  the  Christian  King's  operations  with  some 
degree  of  contempt.  Ere  long,  however,  the  Oriental 
warrior  became  alarmed.  In  fact,  there  were  rumors 
of  aid  from  Europe ;  and  the  Sultan,  roused  to  exer- 
tion, assembled  a  numerous  army,  approached  Acre, 
occupied  all  the  high  ground  in  the  neighborhood,  and 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ACRE.  181 

placed  Guy,  who  had  come  as  a  besieger,  in  the  predi- 
cament of  being  besieged.  Nevertheless,  the  Cliristians 
of  the  East  mamtained  their  position,  and  soon  found 
themselves  reinforced  by  crusaders  from  Denmark, 
from  Friesland,  and  from  almost  every  country  in 
Europe,  among  whom  was  Baldwin,  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  who  had  preceded  the  English  King,  with 
five  hundred  men,  under  a  banner  on  which  was 
inscribed  the  name  of  Thomas  a  Becket. 

The  rapid  influx  of  crusaders,  and  the  daily  arrival 
of  ships  from  Europe,  inspired  the  Moslems  with  dis- 
may ;  and  many  of  Saladin's  emirs  counselled  a  retreat. 
The  Sultan,  however,  contrived  to  preserve  his  equa- 
nimity, and  endeavored  to  dispel  their  fears.  "  This," 
said  he,  "  is  a  trick.  These  Christians  take  away  their 
ships  by  night  and  bring  them  back  again  at  dawn  of 
day,  as  if  they  were  newly  arrived,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  a  display  of  strength."  Saladin,  however,  was 
not  ignorant  of  the  actual  state  of  affairs,  and  was,  in 
reality,  torn  with  anxiety,  while  exhibiting  "  a  calm 
and  fearless  countenance." 

Such  was  the  situation  of  the  armies  that  covere"d 
the  plain  of  Acre,  when  the  crusaders  resolved  on 
givmg  Saladin  battle.  Leaving  the  brave  Geoffrey  de 
Lusignan  to  protect  their  camp,  they  advanced  to  the 
attack,  and  their  onslaught  was  so  fierce,  that  Saladin's 
army  gave  way.  The  Sultan  was  in  the  utmost  peril ; 
but,  supported  by  the  Mamelukes,  he  stood  his  ground, 
and,  rallymg  his  men,  renewed  the  combat.  The  for- 
tune of  the  day  soon  changed  ;  and  Saladin's  horsemen 
charging  impetuously,  first  destroyed  the  Frankish 
cavalry,  and  then  dispersed  the  Knights  of  the  Temple. 
10 


182  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADEKS. 

In  vain  did  Geoffrey  de  Lusignan  come  to  the  rescue, 
and  use  all  his  efforts  to  rally  the  fugitives.  The 
struggle  proved  hopeless;  the  slaughter  was  terrible, 
and  the  total  destruction  of  the  Christians  would  have 
been  inevitable,  had  not  Geoffrey  stayed  the  rush  with 
sufficient  success  to  save  the  camp.  As  it  was,  the 
crusaders  suffered  severely,  and  they  owed  their 
safety,  not  to  their  own  exertions,  but  to  the  disorder 
of  their  foes. 

Saladin  did  not  attempt  to  follow  up  the  advantage 
he  had  won.  In  truth,  the  great  Sultan  was  in  no 
position  to  do  so.  Provisions  were  scarce;  winter  was 
approaching ;  and  prudence  compelled  him  to  retire  to 
the  mountains.  But  no  sooner  did  spring  return,  than 
he  hastened  to  the  encounter;  and,  with  drums  beating 
and  banners  frying,  his  mighty  army  descended  to  the 
plain.  The  Christians  were  somewhat  dismayed  at 
sight  of  such  foes ;  and  well  nigh  in  despair,  when 
three  wooden  towers,  constructed  by  them  durhig  win- 
ter, were  assailed  by  Greek  fire  and  consumed,  as  if 
struck  by  lightning.  Moreover,  an  Egyptian  fleet  that 
entered  the  port  added  to  their  danger;  and  Saladin's 
attacks  were  so  incessant,  that  no  repose  could  be  got, 
night  or  day.  Conflict  after  conflict  took  place ;  and 
on  each  occasion  the  crusaders  had  the  worst. 

About  this  stage  of  the  operations,  the  Duke  of 
Suabia,  who  had  halted  for  a  time  at  Antioch,  arrived 
at  Acre.  But  the  crusaders,  who  had  heard  of  the 
magnificent  army  led  from  Germany  by  Frederick 
Barbarossa,  were  mortified  when  only  live  thousand 
men  appeared.  The  Duke,  however,  was  ambitious  of 
signalising  his  arrival  by  some  memorable  exploit,  and 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ACRE.  183 

insisted  on  immediately  attacking  the  foe.  The  Chris- 
tian leaders  agreed,  all  the  more  readily,  perhaps,  that 
Saladin  was  known  to  be  a  prey  to  sickness.  But  the 
Sultan,  albeit  too  unwell  to  mount  on  horseback,  caused 
himself  to  be  carried  to  the  battle,  and  enacted  the  part 
of  general  with  so  much  skill,  that  the  crusaders,  after 
fighting  for  a  whole  day,  returned  to  their  camp  baffled 
and  dispirited. 

Nor  was  this  the  worst.  New  misfortunes  befel  the 
crusaders.  Famine  and  disease  attacked  the  camp ; 
and  death  carried  off  many  of  the  principal  warriors. 
At  the  same  time,  the  circumstance  of  Sybil,  wife  of 
Guy  de  Lusignan,  with  her  two  children,  going  the 
way  of  all  flesh,  caused  fresh  discord ;  for  Guy  was 
utterly  disinclined  to  part  with  the  crown  which  he  had 
worn  as  her  husband ;  and  Conrad  of  Montferrat, 
having  by  a  scandalous  intrigue  married  Sybil's 
younger  sister,  Isabel,  who  was  the  heiress,  proved 
himself  a  formidable  rival.  During  winter,  the  army 
was  divided  into  two  parties,  ever  on  the  eve  of  con- 
flict ;  and  the  condition  of  the  crusaders  was  in  every 
respect  deplorable,  when  the  spring  of  1191  came; 
and,  with  spring,  Philip  Augustus  and  the  warriors  of 
France. 

Never  was  king  more  welcome  than  Philip.  His 
presence  revived  the  hopes  of  the  besiegers,  and 
nerved  them  for  new  encounters.  After  pitching  their 
tents  within  bowshot  of  the  enemy's  lines,  the  French 
hastened  to  the  attack.  But  the  efforts  made  by  Philip 
being  promptly  met,  were  unsuccessful ;  and  the 
courage  of  the  crusaders  again  drooped.  Besides,  the 
French  monarch's  arrival  furnished  Saladin  with  a  fair 


184  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CEITSADERS. 

excuse  for  rousing  all  Moslems  to  arms ;  and  warriors 
from  two  continents  flocked  to  his  standard. 

While  the  tents  of  martial  tribes,  gathered  from 
Asia  and  Africa,  covered  hills,  and  valleys,  and  plains, 
and  while  the  soldiers  of  the  cross  were  thinkinor 
anxiously  of  what  a  day  might  bring  forth,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  English  fleet,  on  the  8th  of  June,  diffused 
general  joy.  A  clangor  of  trumpets  and  musical 
mstruments  hailed  the  coming  of  Cceur  de  Lion  ;  and 
the  French  King,  hastening  lo  the  shore,  received  his 
royal  rival  with  the  utmost  courtesy,  and,  with  chival- 
rous gallantrj'-,  lifted  Berengaria  from  the  boat  to  the 
beach.  The  day  was  kept  as  a  jubilee ;  wine  was 
drunk  from  costly  cups;  the  deeds  of  the  ancients 
were  recited  ;  popular  ballads  were  sung ;  harps,  pipes, 
and  timbrels  sounded  on  every  side  ;  and  when  night, 
which  was  passed  in  dancing,  set  in,  wax  torches  and 
flaming  lights  sparkled  in  such  profusion,  that  the 
Turks  fancied  the  valley  was  on  fire. 

The  presence  of  the  English  might  well,  indeed, 
revive  the  fainting  courage  of  the  Christians  in  the 
East.  No  fear  could  be  entertained  of  that  feudal  army 
being  found  wanting  on  the  day  of  trial.  Cceur  de 
Lion  was  considered  as  quite  a  host  in  himself;  and  the 
men  whom  he  led  were  proud  of  the  prowess,  and 
inspired  by  the  spirit  of  their  King.  Moreover,  he 
was  accompanied  by  Anglo-Norm.an  nobles,  who,  as 
war  chiefs,  had  no  rivals  in  Europe.  William  Ferrars, 
Earl  of  Derby  ;  Roger  Bigod,  Earl  of  Norfolk;  Robert 
Fitz-Parnel,  Earl  of  Leceister  ;  Hubert  Walter,  Bishop 
of  Salisbury  ;  Ralph  Glanville,  Justiciary  of  England ; 
Hugh  de  Gourney,  grandson  of  Girard,  who  fought  in 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ACHE.  185 

Palestine  with  Robert  Curthose ;  Richard,  Earl  of 
Clare,  head  of  that  family  which  took  so  conspicuous  a 
part  in  the  conquest  of  Ireland  ;  and  Hugh  Neville, 
heir-male  of  that  Norman  whose  name  figures  in  Dug- 
dale  as  the  Conqueror's  admiral  —  were  the  captains 
who  now  encamped  around  the  royal  standard  of 
England  under  the  walls  of  Acre. 

But  the  grandeur  of  the  English  crusaders  tended 
to  inspire  hatred  in  the  breasts  of  their  rivals,  and,  in  a 
few  days,  discord  appeared.  Any  feelings  of  friend- 
ship that  ever  existed  between  Richard  and  Philip  had 
evaporated  at  Messina;  and,  within  a  week  after  their 
re-union,  disputes  about  the  disposal  of  the  crown  of 
Jerusalem  revived  the  old  feud.  Richard  and  the 
English,  supported  by  the  Pisans  and  the  Knights  of 
St.  John,  advocated  the  claim  of  Guy  de  Lusignan  ; 
Philip,  allying  himself  whh  the  Germans,  the  Genoese, 
and  the  Knights  of  the  Temple,  took  part  with  Conrad 
of  Montferrat.  The  two  parties,  ever  ready  to  come 
to  blows,  were  in  no  temper  to  unhe  their  arms 
against  the  infidels.  They  were  still  contending,  when 
CoBur  de  Lion  was  prostrated  \vith  sickness. 

While  Richard  lay  in  his  tent,  Philip  resolved  to 
take  Acre  without  English  aid ;  and,  having  erected 
machines  of  war,  gave  orders  for  an  assault.  The 
attempt,  though  boldly  made,  entirely  failed  ;  and  sub- 
sequent efforts  were  not  more  successful.  In  one  of 
these,  Alberic  Clements,  a  man  renowned  for  valor, 
won  immortal  fame.  Seemg  the  French  toiling  to  no 
purpose,  he  exclaimed  —  "  This  day  I  will  enter  into 
the  city  of  Acre,  or  perish,  if  it  please  God ,"  and 
boldly  mounted  a  ladder.  As  he  reached  the  top  of 
16* 


186    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

the  wall,  the  Turks  surrounded  him  on  all  sides  ;  and 
the  French,  who  were  on  the  point  of  following,  were 
so  overwhelmed  by  the  pressure  of  numbers  on  the 
ladder,  that  many  were  bruised  to  death,  and  others 
were  dragged  away  fearfully  injured.  Alone  and 
overpowered,  Alberic  struggled  till  he  was  pierced 
with  countless  wounds,  and  died,  as  he  had  wished,  a 
martyr  in  his  Redeemer's  cause.  The  French  were 
much  discouraged  by  their  loss,  and  gave  themselves 
up  to  lamentation  and  mourning. 

While  Philip  Augustus  was  vainly  endeavoring  to 
reduce  Acre  without  English  aid.  King  Richard  was 
stretched  on  a  couch  of  languishing.  But,  however 
weak  might  be  the  flesh  of  Coeur  de  Lion,  his  spirit 
was  willing.  Hoping  to  have  the  glory  of  accomplish- 
ing that  in  which  his  rival  had  failed,  he  ordered  his 
soldiers  to  prepare  for  an  assault,  and  caused  himself 
to  be  carried  to  the  walls,  that  he  might,  by  his  pres- 
ence, animate  them  to  deeds  of  heroism.  Accordingly, 
everything  was  arranged  ;  and  the  English  advanced 
to  the  attack,  the  King  appearing  among  them  on  a 
silken  bed,  with  an  arbalist,  from  which  he  discharged 
arrows  and  darts  at  the  besieged.  Encouraged  by 
inspiriting  words  and  promises  of  reward,  the  English 
wrought  deeds  of  valor  ;  and  Richard,  with  his  sling, 
slew  many  of  the  foe,  among  others  a  man  who  boast- 
fully displayed  himself  on  the  ramparts,  wearing  the 
armor  of  Alberic  Clements.  But  the  height  of  the 
walls  and  the  valor  of  the  Turks  baffled  all  efforts  to 
take  the  city;  and  the  English  were  fain,  as  the  French 
had  been,  to  abandon  the  assault  in  despair. 

Repeated  failures  convinced  the  Kings  of  England 


THE    SIEGE    OF    ACRE.  187 

and  France  of  the  impolicy  of  their  conduct,  and, 
harmony  having  been  restored,  they,  in  compact, 
besieged  the  city  with  great  ardor.  But  the  Turks 
were  in  an  unyielding  mood.  Obstinately  resisting 
every  attack,  and  throwing  Greek  fire,  they  kept  the 
besiegers  at  bay.  Many  fierce  and  sanguinary  con- 
flicts took  place  between  Saladin  and  the  crusaders, 
but  neither  side,  for  a  time,  gained  any  decided  advan- 
tage. 

Nevertheless,  the  crusaders  persevered  with  their 
enterprise.  Every  day  new  means  were  tried  to 
reduce  the  city ;  and  the  besieged,  sufiering  from 
famine  and  fatigue,  proposed  to  capitulate.  But  Philip 
vowed  to  slaughter  every  Moslem,  unless  all  the  cities 
taken  from  the  Christians  were  restored;  and  the 
emirs,  indignant  at  the  demand,  declared  that  they 
would  rather  die  beneath  the  ruins  of  Acre  than  con- 
sent to  such  terms.  "  We  will  defend  the  city,"  said 
they  with  decision,  "  as  the  lion  defends  his  blood- 
stained lair." 

Events  did  not  justify  the  boast  of  the  emirs.  For 
some  days,  indeed,  they  continued  to  resist  with 
obstinacy.  But  at  length,  giving  way  to  despair,  they 
sent  pigeons  with  intimation  of  their  position  to  Saladin, 
and  resolved  on  leaving  the  city  by  night,  with  the 
hope  of  escaping  to  the  Sultan's  camp.  Their  project, 
however,  became  known  to  the  crusaders,  who  kept  so 
strict  a  watch,  that  egress  was  impossible.  Under 
these  circumstances,  the  emirs  consented  to  yield 
Acre,  and  to  leave  thousands  as  captives,  on  condition 
that  the  soldiers  composing  the  garrison,  leaving  behind 
their  arms  and  property,  were  allowed  to  depart  with- 


188  THE    CRUSADES    ATn'D    THE    CRUSADERS. 

out  molestation.  The  two  Kings  agreed  to  the  terms ; 
the  Turks  marched  out,  and  the  crusaders  entering, 
planted  the  Christian  standard  on  the  ramparts ;  and 
Hugh  de  Gourney  divided  the  spoil  between  the  two 
armies  in  such  a  way  as  to  prevent  disputes. 

On  this  occasion,  Richard  displayed  a  degree  of  im- 
prudence destined  to  cost  him  dear.  After  entering 
Acre,  he  not  only  offended  the  King  of  France  by 
taldng  possession  of  the  palace,  but  insulted  the  Duke 
of  Austria  by  ordering  that  prince's  banner  to  be 
pulled  down  from  the  walls,  thrown  into  the  ditch,  and 
replaced  by  the  standard  of  England.  Little  notice 
appears  to  have  been  taken  of  these  matters  at  the 
time.  Philip  Augustus  quietly  became  the  guest  of  the 
Templars,  and  Leopold  of  Austria  digested  the  insult 
as  he  best  could.  But  both  "bit  their  gloves"  and 
treasured  up  the  wrong. 

It  soon  became  evident,  that  Richard  and  Philip 
could  not  act  amicably  together ;  and  the  French 
King,  under  pretext  of  suffering  from  the  climate,  inti- 
mated his  intention  of  returning  to  Europe.  Richard 
offered  no  opposition,  but  exacted  an  oath  that  his  ter- 
ritories should  not  be  attacked  in  his  absence.  Having 
taken  the  oath,  Philip  left  his  army  under  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy's  command,  and  departed,  not  without  signi- 
ficant hints  from  the  assembled  crusaders  that  he  was 
regarded  as  a  deserter. 


BATTLE    OF    ASSUK.  169 


CHA  PTER    XII. 


BATTLE    OF    ASSUR. 

When  Philip  Augustus  had  sailed  for  Europe,  and 
the  crusaders  had  repaired  the  battered  works  of  Acre, 
King  Richard,  issuing  from  the  gate  pitched  his  tent 
outside  the  walls,  and  gave  orders  that  the  whole  army 
should  leave  the  captured  city,  and  prepare  to  march 
to  Jerusalem.  The  behest  of  the  English  King  was 
not  very  readily  obeyed.  Acre,  in  fact,  was  full  of 
choice  wine  and  captivating  women  ;  and  the  soldiers 
of  the  cross  were  in  no  haste  to  leave  quarters  where 
such  luxuries  abounded. 

CoDur  de  Lion,  however,  was  resolute  in  his  pur- 
pose ;  and  the  crusaders,  gradually  tearing  themselves 
from  their  pleasures,  quitted  the  city ,  "  but,"  says  the 
chronicler,  "  slowly  and  peevishly,  as  if  they  did  it 
against  their  will."  Leaving  the  two  Queens  —  Joan 
and  Berengaria  —  with  the  Emperor  Isaac's  little 
daughter,  at  Acre,  and  giving  orders  that  no  women, 
save  washerwomen,  should  accompany  the  army, 
Richard  commenced  his  march  along  the  coast,  having 
the  sea  on  his  right,  and  on  his  left  heights  from  which 
the  Saracens  >vatched  his  movements  and  awaited  a 
favorable  opportunity  to  attack.     The  army,  however, 


190     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

marched  in  formidable  order  :  the  Templars  leading  the 
van  5  the  King  of  England,  with  his  standard  towering 
conspicuously,  in  the  centre  ;  and  the  Knights  of  St. 
John  bringing  up  the  rear.  Every  evening,  when  the 
crusaders  halted  under  the  shade  of  palm-trees,  the 
heralds  of  the  several  camps  three  times  cried  aloud  ; — 
"  Save  the  Holy  Sepulchre  !  "  and  every  soldier  bent 
his  knee,  and  said  "  Amen  !  " 

In  the  meantime,  Saladin  was  not  inattentive  to 
the  movements  of  his  foes.  Day  by  day  the  great 
Sultan  infested  the  crusaders'  line  of  march,  and,  at 
the  head  of  an  army  infinitely  superior  in  numbers, 
caused  them  the  utmost  annoyance.  Sometimes  their 
van  was  attacked;  at  other  times,  the  rear  was 
harassed  ;  and  every  soldier  who  strayed,  was  carried 
off  as  if  by  magic.  The  crusaders,  however,  pur- 
suing their  march,  succeeded  in  keeping  the  enemy 
at  bay  ;  and  in  the  many  skirmishes  which  took  place, 
deeds  of  valor  were  wrought  on  both  sides. 

While  advancing  towards  the  city  of  Assur,  and 
entering  a  narrow  plam,  on  the  left  of  which  rose  the 
steep  mountains  of  Naplouse,  the  crusaders  were  ex- 
posed to  the  most  severe  attacks.  On  one  occasion, 
the  Saracens  descending  from  the  heights  upon  the 
pack  horses,  carried  off  much  baggage,  and,  charging 
in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  which  their  attack  had 
created,  scattered  all  who  opposed.  The  crusaders, 
however,  exhibited  high  courage,  and  offered  a 
desperate  resistance.  One  man,  named  Everard,  a 
follower  of  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  particularly  dis- 
tinguished himself.  Happening  in  the  fray  to  have 
his  right  hand  cut  off  by  a  Saracen,  Everard,  without 


BATTLE    OF    ASSUR.  191 

even  changing  countenance,  clutched  the  sword  with 
his  left,  and  defended  himself  courageously  against  a 
host  of  assailants. 

While  Everard  was  thus  occupied,  Eichard  be- 
ing made  aware  of  the  attack,  came  galloping  to  the 
rescue.  Shouting  out  "  St.  George  !  St.  George  !  "  the 
King  cut  down  all  who  crossed  his  path ;  and  the 
Saracens,  amazed  at  such  prowess,  bore  back,  and 
escaped  to  their  mountams.  But  their  absence  was 
merely  temporary.  Scarcely  had  Richard  restored 
order,  when  his  van  and  rear  were  again  assailed. 
Every  opportunity  was  seized  on  by  the  Sultan  and 
his  soldiers.     At  length  a  battle  became  inevitable. 

It  was  Saturday,  7th  September,  1191,  and  Sala- 
din,  with  his  main  army,  and  his  camels  and  drome- 
daries and  baggage,  had  got  in  advance  of  the 
crusaders,  and  determined,  if  possible,  to  arrest  their 
progress.  With  this  object,  the  Sultan  selected  his 
post  on  the  verge  of  a  forest  of  oaks,  which  extended 
along  the  declivities  of  the  mountains  of  Naplouse, 
and  hard  by  a  torrent,  which  crosses  the  plains  of 
Assur  and  flows  into  the  sea  near  the  ramparts  of  the 
city.  Part  of  the  Moslem  army  covered  the  heights ; 
while  the  main  body  awaited  the  foe  on  the  margin  of 
the  river. 

At  the  early  dawn  of  a  Syrian  morning,  on  the 
eve  of  the  Virgin's  nativity,  the  crusaders  armed  for 
the  conflict.  Richard,  aware  of  having  to  encounter 
a  superior  force,  marshalled  the  Christian  host  with 
great  care,  and  in  five  divisions.  The  first  was  formed 
by  the  Knights  of  the  Temple,  who  led  the  van  ;  the 
second   comprised   the    men   of  Anjou  and  Brittany, 


192  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

marching  in  good  order  ;  the  third  was  formed  of  the 
warriors  of  Poictiers,  under  Guy  de  Lusignan  ;  the 
fourth  was  composed  of  the  warriors  of  England  and 
Normandy,  led  by  such  barons  as  the  Earl  of 
Leicester,  Hugh  Neville,  and  Hugh  de  Gourney,  and 
surrounding  their  national  standard ;  *  and  the  fifth 
consisted  of  the  Knights  of  St.  Jolin,  who  "  kept  to- 
gether so  closely,  that  an  apple,  if  thrown,  would  not 
have  fallen  to  the  ground  without  touching  a  man  or 
a  horse." 

The  crusaders,  thus  arrayed,  were  moving  onwards, 
and  the  Count  of  Champagne,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
and  the  King  of  England,  who  was  mounted  on  a 
magnificent  bay  steed  he  had  brought  from  Cyprus, 
rode  up  and  down  narrowly  watching  the  movements 
of  the  foe,  when  a  body  of  Moslem  warriors,  on  steeds 
of  wondrous  fleetness,  charged  suddenly  down  at 
full  speed,  and,  mingling  their  voices  in  one  fearful 
yell,  commenced  the  attack  by  discharging  arrows 
and  darts.  It  was  clear  that  Saladin  intended  to 
offer  battle  ;  and  soon  the  appearance  of  white  turbans 
and   long   pikes,  visible    through   clouds   of  dust,  an- 


*  "It  was  formed  of  a  long  beam,  like  the  mast  of  a  ship,'* 
says  Vinsauf,  "  made  of  most  solid  ceiled  work,  on  four  wheels, 
put  together  with  joints  bound  with  iron ;  and,  to  all  appeai-ance, 
no  sword  or  axe  could  cut,  or  fire  injure  it.  A  chosen  body  of 
soldiers  were  generally  appointed  to  guard  it,  especially  in  a 
combat  on  the  plains,  lest  by  any  hostile  attack  it  should  be 
broken  or  thrown  down.  It  is  very  properly  drawn  on  wheels  : 
for  it  is  advanced  when  the  enemy  yields,  and  drawn  back  if 
they  press  on  ....  It  was  surrounded  by  the  Normans  and  Fng- 
lish."  —  Chronicles  of  the  Crusades, 


BATTLE    OF    ASSUR.  193 

nounccd  to  the  crusaders  the  presence  of  the  Sultan's 
mighty  army.  Ere  long  the  Saracens  advanced, 
divided  into  troops  and  companies,  and  preceded  by 
clarions,  trumpets,  drums,  and  every  species  of  mu- 
sical instrument,  likely  to  nerve  the  hand  and  fire  the 
blood. 

The  crusaders  soon  saw  that  they  were  surrounded 
on  all  sides ;  and  the  Knights  of  St.  John  found 
themselves  so  hard  pressed,  that  they  could  scarcely 
refrain  from  charging  upon  the  foe.  Being  entreated, 
however,  to  keep  in  a  close  body,  they  marched  on 
for  a  while  without  retaliating.  At  length  their  plight 
became  intolerable  ;  and  angry  gestures  indicated  that 
the  patience  of  the  military  monks  was  rapidly  giving 
way. 

"  Oh,  good  St.  George !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the 
Knights,  "  are  we  thus  to  be  put  to  confusion  without 
striking  a  blow  on  the  impious  race  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  Grand  Master, "  it  must  not  be  so  ;  " 
and  he  spurred  towards  the  English  King. 

"  My  Lord  King,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  ap- 
proaching Richard,  "  we  are  violently  pressed  by  the 
enemy,  and  in  danger  of  eternal  infamy  if  we  return, 
not  their  blows.  We  are  losing  our  horses,  one  after 
another,  and  why  should  we  bear  with  them  any 
further  >  " 

"  Good  Master,"  said  the  King,  "  it  is  your  duty  to 
sustain  their  attack ; "  and  the  Grand  Master  had 
scarcely  rejoined  his  knights,  when  the  enemy  assailed 
them  more  fiercely  than  before. 

"  Why  do  we  not  charge  them  at  full  gallop  ?  "  said 
one  of  the  knit^hts. 
17 


194    THE  CRUSADES  AXD  THE  CRUSADERS. 

*'  Yes,"  cried  a  hundred  voices  ;  "  unless  we  de- 
fend ourselves  by  charging,  we  shall  incur  everlasting 
scandal,  and  so  much  the  greater  the  longer  we 
delay." 

As  this  conversation  was  taking  place,  the  mar- 
shal and  another  knight,  wheeling  round,  rode  lance 
in  rest  upon  the  Saracens ;  and  the  Knights  of  St. 
John,  turning  their  horses'  heads,  prepared  to  charge. 
Almost  as  they  did  so,  Saladin  passed  through  the 
Moslem  ranks,  and  roused  the  courage  of  his  soldiers, 
who  shouted  — "  God  is  powerful !  " 

Matters  having  reached  this  stage,  the  battle  was 
begun  by  Sir  James  d'Avennes,  who,  at  the  head  of 
European  cavalry,  penetrated  twice  into  the  Saracenic 
ranks.  At  the  third  charge,  his  leg  was  severed  by  the 
stroke  of  a  Turkish  sabre,  and  surrounded  by  countless 
foes,  he  expired  sword  in  hand.  Falling  in  the  midst 
of  Saracens,  of  whom  he  is  said  to  have  killed  no 
fewer  than  fifteen,  the  gallant  knight  called  loudly  on 
King  Richard  to  avenge  his  death. 

Scarcely  had  Sir  James  d'Avennes  breathed  his 
last,  when  Coeur  de  Lion  advanced  with  the  main 
army  of  crusaders,  and  the  shock  was  terrific.  Break- 
ing into  the  Moslem  ranks,  with  his  ponderous  battle- 
axe  in  his  hand,  Coeur  de  Lion  swept  the  Saracens 
before  him,  dispersing  them  right  and  left,  and  chasing 
them  across  the  torrent.  But  meanwhile  the  crusaders, 
assailed  on  all  hands  by  the  crowd  of  foes,  who  poured 
down  from  the  heights,  were  giving  way ;  and  the 
King  was  under  the  necessity  of  retracing  his  steps  to 
come  to  their  aid, 

A  conflict  of  the  most    sanguinary  character   then 


BATTLE    OF    ASSt^R.  195 

took  place  ;  Christian  and  Moslem  figliting  hand  to 
liand  and  steel  to  steel.  Cries  of  rage  and  despair 
mingled  with  the  clash  of  sword  and  shield.  In  tho 
midst  of  the  battle,  Richard,  brandishing  his  axe  and 
shouting  "  St.  George  !  "  figured  prominently  :  and 
woe  to  the  unfortunate  wig-ht  who  crossed  the  Kind's 
path.  Wherever  the  contest  was  keenest,  and  the 
carnage  most  sanguinary,  the  Cyprian  steed  and  the 
stalwart  rider  appeared.  The  very  sight  was  terrible 
to  foes.  The  bravest  of  Moslems  watched  with  ap- 
prehension the  Cyprian  steed's  furious  rush ;  the 
bravest  of  Moslems  recoiled  in  terror  before  the  swing 
of  Coeur  de  Lion's  battle-axe.  In  vain,  if  we  are  to 
credit  historians,  Saladin  threw  himself  into  the  battle, 
and  crossed  weapons  with  the  mighty  Plantagenet. 
Saracen  after  Saracen  reeled  to  the  ground  :  and  it 
became  impossible  for  them,  notwithstanding  their  num- 
bers, to  withstand  the  onslaught  of  thousands  of 
knights,  headed  by  such  a  hero-king.  Broken  and 
beaten  on  all  sides,  the  Moslem  warriors  abandoned  the 
field,  and  retreated  to  the  forest  of  oaks. 

The  result  of  the  battle,  being  such  as  he  had  not 
anticipated,  mortified  Saladin ;  and,  calling  together 
the  emirs,  he  addressed  them  in  anger. 

"  Are  these,"  asked  the  Sultan,  "  the  deeds  of  my 
brave  troops,  once  so  boastful,  and  whom  I  have  so 
loaded  with  gifts  }  It  is  a  disgrace  to  our  nation,  thus 
to  become  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  their  glorious 
ancestors." 

"  Most  sacred  Sultan,"  answered  one  of  the  emirs, 
"this  charge  is  unjust,  for  we  fought  with  all  our 
strength   against    the    Franks,    and    did    our    best    to 


19G    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CEUSADERS. 

destroy  them.  But  it  was  of  no  avail ;  for  they  are 
cased  in  impenetrable  armor,  which  no  weapon  can 
pierce.  And  further,  there  is  among  them  one  su- 
perior to  any  man  we  have  ever  seen.  They  call  him 
Melech  Ric ;  and  he  seems  a  king  born  to  command 
the  whole  earth.  He  always  charges  before  the  rest, 
slaying  our  men  ;  no  man  can  resist  him  or  escape  out 
of  his  hands.  What  more  could  we  have  done  against 
a  foe  so  fornjidable  .''  " 


AFTER   ASSUE.  197 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


AFTER   ASSUR. 


After  his  great  victory  on  the  Assur,  Richard  led 
the  pilgrim  army  towards  Joppa.  On  reaching  that 
ancient  city,  the  crusaders  found  that  it  was  so  dilapi- 
dated, as  to  be  incapable  of  affording  shelter.  How- 
ever, they  encamped  in  olive  gardens  outside  the 
walls,  and  refreshed  themselves  with  the  figs,  grapes, 
pomegranates,  and  citrons,  with  which  the  country 
abounded. 

It  would  seem  that  the  crusaders  ought,  at  this 
time,  to  have  pushed  on  to  Jerusalem.  Everything, 
however,  combined  to  retard  their  progress  towards 
the  Holy  City.  Ere  long,  tidings  reached  the  camp 
that  Saladin  was  destroying  Ascalon  ;  but  the  intel- 
ligence appeared  so  improbable,  that  Richard  could 
not  credit  the  report.  He,  therefore,  despatched 
Geoffrey  de  Lusignan  to  ascertain  the  truth ;  and, 
on  the  news  being  confirmed,  he  deliberated  with  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  and  the  French  lords,  whether 
they  should  proceed  to  Jerusalem,  or  endeavor  to  save 
Ascalon. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  the  Kmg,  "  that  any  differ- 
ence of  opinion  may  be  not  only  useless,  but  danger- 
17* 


198  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

ous.  The  Turks  M'ho  are  dismantling  Ascalon,  dare 
not  meet  us  in  the  field.  I  think  we  should  save 
the  city,  as  a  protection  to  the  pilgrims  who  pass  that 
way." 

"  Our  opinion  is  quite  opposite,"  said  the  French 
lords ;  "  and  we  recommend  that  Joppa  should  rather 
be  restored,  as  furnishing  a  shorter  and  easier  route 
for  pilgrims  going  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre." 

The  opinion  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  his 
friends,  finding  favor  with  the  majority,  was  adopted  ; 
and  the  crusaders  having  determined  to  remain  at 
Joppa,  began  to  rebuild  the  towers  and  clear  out  the 
moat.  The  work,  however,  was  not  to  the  liking  of 
all ;  and  many,  longing  for  scenes  of  revelry  and 
dissipation,  returned  to  gratify  their  tastes  in  the 
taverns  and  bamiios  at  Acre.  Anxious  to  recall  the 
soldiers  of  the  cross  to  their  duties,  Richard  sent 
Guy  de  Lusignan.  But  the  influence  of  Guy  was  not 
sufhcient  to  rouse  them  from  their  sinful  pursuits ; 
and  the  King  of  England,  in  order  to  accomplish  his 
object,  was  under  the  necessity  of  sailing  to  Acre. 
He  was  successful  in  bringing  the  deserters  back  to 
Joppa,  and  conducted  thither  Queen  Berengaria,  Queen 
Joan,  and  other  ladies,  who  shared  the  adventurous 
enterprise. 

At  Joppa,  the  crusaders  appeared  to  forget  the 
object  with  which  they  had  gone  to  the  East ;  and 
months  passed  over  without  any  effort  being  made 
to  realize  their  aspirations.  Richard  did  not  exhibit 
the  very  best  example.  Besides  giving  way,  in  some 
degree,  to  the  fascinations  of  a  brilliant  court,  the 
King  of  England  yielded  to  his  reckless  humor,  and 


AFTER    ASSUR.  199 

"  wooed  danger  as  a  bride."     The  consequences  were 
not,  in  all  cases,  particularly  agreeable. 

One  day  when  the  Sultan's  soldiers  were  scouring 
the  country  in  all  directions,  Richard  mounted  his 
bay  Cyprian  steed,  and,  attended  by  a  band  of  knights, 
rode  forth  with  a  view  of  enjoying  the  sport  of  hawk- 
ing and  of  fighting  any  enemy  who  came  in  his  way. 
Fatigued  with  his  exertions,  Richard  lay  down  to 
rest,  and  fell  fast  asleep.  While  in  this  posture, 
the  royal  crusader  and  his  attendants  were  suddenly 
awakened  by  the  approach  of  foes ;  and  he  had 
scarcely  time  to  spring  upon  liis  steed,  when  the 
Turks  were  upon  him.  Seeing  himself  surrounded, 
Richard  drew  his  sword,  and  laid  about  him  to  such 
purpose  that  his  assailants  fled.  On  reaching  a  spot 
where  another  band  lay  in  ambush,  the  Turks  rallied 
and  renewed  the  attack.  The  king  fought  desper- 
ately ;  but  the  odds  were  so  overwhelming  that  his 
capture  seemed  inevitable.  At  a  critical  moment, 
however,  William  de  Prattelles,  one  of  his  Imights, 
shouted  out :  "  I  am  the  King  :  spare  my  life ; "  and 
the  Turks,  completely  deceived,  took  him  prisoner, 
while  Richard  spurred  away  to  Joppa. 

Soon  after  this  escape,  Coeur  de  Lion's  chivalry 
involved  him  in  a  danger  almost  equal  in  degree. 
A  company  of  the  Templars,  having  fallen  into  an 
ambuscade,  the  King  of  England  sent  the  Earl  of 
Leicester  to  their  aid,  promising  to  follow  as  soon 
as  he  could  brace  on  his  armor.  Before  there  was 
time  for  the  process,  news  came  that  the  Templars 
were  on  the  point  of  being  overpowered  by  the  enemy, 
and  that  the   English  Earl  was  likely  to  share  their 


200     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

fate.  "  St.  George,"  exclaimed  Richard,  "  I  should 
be  unworthy  of  the  name  of  king,  if  I  abandoned 
those  T  have  promised  to  succor ; "  and,  without 
waiting  for  any  one,  he  leaped  on  his  war-horse. 
Galloping  to  the  spot,  Richard  spurred  into  the  con- 
flict, and  exerted  his  strength  with  such  effect,  that 
he  rescued  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  nearly  all 
the  Templars  who  had  not  fallen  previously  to  his 
arrival. 

An    antagonist   very  different    from  Saracens   soon 
after  crossed   Richard's   path.     While  the  royal  hero 
was   riding    homeward,  he    was    suddenly   exposed    to 
serious  danger  from  a  wild   boar,  which   planted  itself 
in    his    way    and    opposed    his    progress.     The    King 
shouted  ;    but    the  animal,  instead    of    moving,  stood, 
with    foaming  mouth,  bristling   hair,   and  erect    ears, 
collecting  all  its  strength  and  fury  to  attack.     Even 
when  Coeur  de  Lion  rode  round  about,  the  boar,  turn- 
ing in  a  circle,  kept  its  place  and  presenting  a  most 
ferocious   aspect.     Richard  was,  of  course,  without  a 
hunting  spear  ;    but,  using  his  lance  instead,  he  suc- 
ceeded  in   piercing  his   grisly  antagonist.     The    boar 
undauntedly  met  the   charge,  turned  on  one   side   in 
such  a  way  as  to  break  the  weapon,   and,  rendered 
furious  by  a  wound,  charged  the  crusader  with  extra- 
ordinary   ferocity.     Richard,    however,  putting   spurs 
to    his   steed,   cleared   the  boar  at  a   leap ;    and   the 
boar,  after  tearing  away  part  of  the  horse's  trappings, 
made  a  desperate  movement  to  close.     But  the  King, 
availing  himself  of  his  steed's  agility,  and  brandishing 
his  blade,  dealt  the  boar   a  stern  blow  in  passing,  and, 
wheeling  round,  terminated  the  contest  by  cutting  the 
animal's  sinews. 


AFTER    ASSUR.  201 

It  was  not  without  uneasiness  that  the  crusaders 
leanied  the  dangers  to  which  their  chief  was  con- 
tinually exposing  himself;  and  when  the  year  drew 
to  its  close,  the  propriety  of  proceeding  to  Jerusalem 
forced  itself  on  their  attention.  Accordingly,  in  Janu- 
ary, 1192,  the  warlike  pilgrims  renewed  their  march  ; 
but,  the  season  being  rainy,  the  roads  were  found  almost 
impassable  ;  and,  after  suffering  every  kind  of  misery, 
they  retreated  to  Ascalon,  the  Eastern  cavalry  hover- 
ing in  their  rear. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  the  crusaders  reached 
Ascalon.  But  the  city  was  not  in  such  a  state  as 
to  afford  comfort.  In  fact,  the  fortifications  were 
entirely  dismantled ;  and  the  gates  were  so  choked 
up  with  heaps  of  stones  and  rubbish,  that,  at  first,  to 
enter  was  found  impossible. 

After  encamping,  however,  and  making  the  best 
of  circumstances,  Richard  resolved  on  repairing  the 
ramparts.  Not  only  did  the  Kmg  waste  time  by  work- 
ing like  a  private  soldier,  but  he  gave  mortal  offence 
by  insisting  on  others  following  his  example. 

"  We  came  to  Asia,"  said  many  of  the  knightly 
crusaders,  "  not  to  rebuild  Ascalon,  but  to  reconquer 
Jerusalem." 

"  I  am  neither  a  carpenter  nor  a  mason,"  said  Leo- 
pold Duke  of  Austria,  when  pressed  to  leave  his  tent 
and  take  part  in  the  operations. 

Richard  did  not  notice  the  expressions  of  indig- 
nation which  came  from  less  important  personages. 
But  when  the  Austrian  demurred,  he  made  use  of  his 
foot  to  indicate,  in  the  most  significant  manner, 
the   contempt    he    felt   for  Leopold,  and  abused  the 


202     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

haughty  Duke  without  reference  to  his  rearing  or  his 
rank. 

Before  the  restoration  of  Ascalon  was  completed, 
the  zeal  of  the  crusaders  began  to  cool.  Everything, 
in  fact,  was  going  wrong ;  and  every  man  was  at 
variance  with  his  neighbor.  At  Acre,  the  partisans 
of  Guy  de  Lusignan  and  Conrad  of  Montferrat  fought 
hand  to  hand  in  the  streets ;  and  Saladin,  aware  of 
the  feuds  of  his  adversaries,  prepared  to  strike  a 
decisive  blow. 

While  such  was  the  state  of  affairs,  the  Prior  of 
Hereford  reached  Richard  with  a  message  which 
threw  the  crusaders  into  commotion.  It  appeared 
that  the  King's  government  had  not  been  satisfac- 
torily carried  on  during  his  absence.  In  fact,  the 
Bishop  of  Ely,  whom  Richard  had  left  as  Chancellor, 
had  been  banished  from  the  realm,  and  Jolin  of  Anjou, 
the  King's  brother,  was  projecting  a  usurpation.  "  If 
your  Majesty  does  not  return  home  with  all  haste," 
said  the  Prior,  "  you  will  not  be  able  to  recover  your 
kingdom  without  a  war." 

Richard  was  much  perplexed  ;  and  he,  at  once, 
recognized  the  expediency  of  treating  with  Saladin. 
Negotiations  were  accordingly  opened  ;  and  the  chiefs 
rivalled  each  other  in  courtesy.  Richard  is  even 
said  to  have  offered  the  hand  of  Queen  Joan  to  the 
Suhan's  brother  Malekadel  ;  and  seeing  that  the 
Sicilian  Dido  had  mourned  her  dead  lord  for  three 
5^ears,  she  might  not  have  interposed  any  serious 
objections  to  uniting  her  fate  with  a  gallant  Saracen. 
But  the  church  was  utterly  hostile  to  the  scheme  ;  and 
she    ultimately   became   the   wife    of    the   Count    of 


AFTER    ASSUE.  203 

Thoulousc.  Richard,  however,  declared  to  Saladin 
that  all  he  wanted  was  possession  of  Jerusalem. 
But  Saladin  replied  that  the  Blessed  City  was  as  dear 
to  Saracens  as  to  Christians  ;  and  negotiations  having 
come  to  nought,  the  belligerents  continued  their  strug- 
gle. 

Meanwhile,  the  army  of  pilgrims  having  been 
asked  to  decide  whether  Guy  de  Lusignan  or  Conrad 
of  Monteferrat  should  be  King  of  Jerusalem,  decided 
in  favor  of  the  latter.  But  Conrad  had  scarcely  time 
to  congratulate  himself  on  his  good  fortune,  when  he 
was  murdered  by  two  of  the  assassins  of  the  old 
Man  of  the  Mountains.  Henry,  Count  of  Cham- 
pagne, marrying  Isabel,  Conrad's  widow,  then  be- 
came King  of  Jerusalem  ;  while  Richard,  to  console 
Guy  de  Lusignan,  bestowed  upon  him  the  crown  of 
Cyprus. 

Richard,  having  failed  in  his  pacific  project,  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  remaining  for  another  year 
in  the  Holy  Land ;  and  in  the  month  of  June,  after 
several  enterprises  which  spread  alarm  among  the 
Saracens,  he  marched  towards  Jerusalem.  The  sol- 
diers were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  entering  the 
Holy  City;  and  Saladin,  in  alarm,  shut  himself  up 
within  the  walls,  and  made  his  emirs  swear  rather  to 
bury  themselves  beneath  the  ruins  than  yield  to  the 
Christians.  But  the  chief  crusaders  did  not  partake 
of  the  enthusiasm  of  their  army  ;  and  the  Sultan's 
alarm  was  unnecessary.  Richard,  indeed,  hoped  that 
Saladin  would  give  them  battle,  and  that  a  victory 
would  clear  their  way.  But  the  Sultan  did  not  gratify 
the   wishes  of  his  martial    foe  ;    and    while  the  cru- 


204  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADERS. 

saders  were  encamped  in  the  vale  of  Hebron,  Elchard 
received  news  whicli  made  him  more  than  ever 
anxious  to  leave  the  East.  Besides,  the  pilgrim 
princes  again  fell  out  among  themselves.  Burgundy 
satirized  Richard  mercilessly  in  some  verses,  which 
were  publicly  sung  ;  Coeur  de  Lion  avenged  himself 
by  a  similar  effusion ;  and,  after  much  controversy, 
they  abandoned  their  enterprise.  It  was  not  without 
pain  that  Richard  gave  the  order  to  retreat  ;  and, 
after  having  done  so,  his  affliction  was  such  that  he 
declared  himself  unworthy  even  to  look  upon  the  Holy 
City. 

"  Sire,"  said  one  of  Richard's  knights,  entering  the 
royal  tent,  "  only  come  hither,  and  I  will  show  you 
Jerusalem ! 

"  Oh,  Lord  God ! "  exclaimed  the  King,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  and  hands  lifted  towards  heaven, 
"  I  pray  thee  that  I  may  never  see  thy  Holy  City, 
since  I  cannot  deliver  it  from  the  hands  of  thine 
enemies  !  " 

After  this  scene,  Richard  fell  back  on  Ascalon,  and 
liaving  fortified  that  city,  repaired  to  Acre.  Ere 
this  the  French  and  Germans  rapidly  deserted  his 
standard  ;  and  Saladin,  descending  from  the  moun- 
tains, took  Joppa.  On  hearing  that  the  city  had 
yielded  to  the  Sultan,  but  the  citadel  was  still  in 
possession  of  the  crusaders,  Richard,  who  was  at 
Acre,  declared  he  would  go  to  their  rescue.  "  As 
God  lives,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  be  with  them, 
and  give  them  all  the  aid  in  my  power."  Landing 
at  Joppa,  he  immediately  fell  upon  the  Turks,  sword 
in   hand,   and    expelled    them    in    confusion.     A    few 


AFTER    ASSTJR.  205 

days  after,  at  the  head  of  his  scanty  ranks,  he  en- 
countered an  army  of  seven  thousand  on  a  plain  out- 
side the  city.  Though  infinitely  inferior  in  number, 
Richard  made  a  noble  struggle,  unhorsed  every  cham- 
pion who  crossed  his  path,  killed  the  leader  of  the 
Moslems,  spread  consternation  among  his  foes,  and 
excited  the  admiration  of  his  friends.  Night  put  an 
end  to  the  conflict,  but  Richard's  victory  was  secure ; 
and  his  marvellous  feats  of  heroism  filled  the  East 
with  his  fame.*' 

When  winter  came,  though  the  navigation  of  the 
Mediterranean  was  deemed  the  reverse  of  safe, 
Richard  was  eager  to  return  to  England.  But  the 
English  King  had  no  idea  of  stealing  away  as 
Philip  Augustus  had  done.  "  The  sea  is  stormy,"  he 
wrote  to  Salad  in,  "  yet  if  you  are  inclined  to  make 
peace,  I  will  brave  all  its  tempests  and  proceed  to 
Europe;  if  you  desire  war,  I  will  run  all  risks  and 
besiege  Jerusalem."  Saladin  consulted  his  emirs,  and 
they  recommended  him  to  obey  the  maxims  of  the 
Koran,  which  orders  that  peace  should  be  granted  to 
enemies  when  they  ask  it. 

*  *' This  Richard,  King  of  England,"  says  Joinville,  "per- 
formed such  deeds  of  prowess  when  he  was  in  the  Holy  Land, 
that  the  Saracens,  on  seeing  their  horses  frightened  at  a  shadow 
or  a  bush,  cried  out  to  them,  '  What  !  dost  think  King  Richard 
is  there  ! '  This  they  were  accustomed  to  say  from  the  many 
and  many  times  he  had  conquered  and  vanquished  them.  In 
like  manner,  when  the  children  of  the  Turks  and  Saracens 
cried,  their  mothers  said  to  them,  '  Hush  !  husli  !  or  I  will 
bring  King  Richard  of  England  to  you ! '  and  from  the  fright 
these  words  caused,  they  were  instantly  quiet." — Chronicles 
of  the  Crusades. 
18 


206  THE    CIlirSA.DES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Richard,  on  learning  that  the  Sultan  was  inclined 
to  treat,  proposed  a  personal  interview.  But  Saladin 
declined  this  on  account  of  his  ignorance  of  Richard's 
language.  Ambassadors  were  therefore  appointed  to 
conclude  a  treaty  ;  and  everything  -was  satisfactorily 
arranged.  Ascalon  was  to  be  demolished  ;  Jerusalem 
was  to  be  open  to  pilgrims  ;  and  the  sea-coast  from  Tyre 
to  Joppa  was  to  be  held  by  the  Christians  of  the  East. 
The  Kino-  and  the  Sultan  contended  who  should  dis- 
play  most  courtesy,  and  did  not  even  require  oaths  to 
the  terms,  but  contented  themselves  with  their  royal 
words,  and  touching  the  hands  of  each  other's  ambas- 
sadors. All  the  princes  of  Syria,  whether  Turk  or 
Frank,  were  then  invited  to  sign  the  treaty  ;  Christians 
and  Moslems  celebrated  the  conclusion  of  peace  with 
tournaments  and  festivals  ;  and  most  of  the  crusaders, 
having  visited  the  Holy  City  and  the  Holy  Places, 
embarked  for  Europe. 

After  concluding  peace  with  Coeur  de  Lion,  Saladin 
returned  to  Damascus,  where  he  enjoyed  his  glory  for 
one  year.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  he  lay  down  to 
die.  "  Go,"  said  he  to  one  of  his  emirs,  "  carry  my 
shroud  through  the  streets,  and  cry  with  a  loud  voice 
— '  Behold  all  that  Saladin,  who  overcame  all  the 
East,  bears  away  of  his  conquests  1  '  "  The  emir  did 
as  he  was  commanded  ;  and  the  soul  of  the  great 
Sultan  parted  from  its  tenement  of  clay. 

Saladin  did  not  deign  to  express  any  wish  as  to 
the  succession  ;  and,  soon  after  he  died,  the  empire 
began  to  fall  to  pieces.  At  first,  indeed,  his  eldest 
son  appeared  likely  to  retain  something  of  his  father's 
power.     Unfortunately  for  the  young  Sultan,  he  ad- 


AFTER    ASSUE.  207 

dieted  himself  to  dissipation,  and  so  scandalized  Mos- 
lems by  indulging  in  wine,  that  serious  discontent  was 
felt.  Malekadel,  Saladin's  brother,  profited  by  these 
discontents  to  dethrone  Saladin's  son ;  and  the  dis- 
possessed Sultan,  driven  from  Damascus,  applied  to  the 
Caliph  of  Bagdad.  But  Mahomet's  successor,  being 
virtually  powerless,  could  only  offer  consolatory  words 
to  the  injured  grandson  of  Ayoub.  "  Rely  upon  it," 
said  the  Caliph,  after  listening  with  exemplary  patience 
to  the  story  of  the  exiled  Sultan,  "your  enemies,  for 
what  they  have  done,  will  have  to  give  an  account  to 
God." 


208  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEKS. 


CHAPTEE    XIV. 


kichaed's  eetukn. 


It  was  the  autumn  of  1192,  when  Coeur  dc  Lion, 
having  seen  Queens  Berengaria  and  Joan  sail  from 
Acre,  prepared  to  follow  them  to  Europe  without 
delay.  Before  embarking,  however,  Richard  remem- 
bered William  de  Pratelles,  who  had  saved  him  from 
captivity,  and  ransomed  the  brave  knight.  At  the 
same  time,  he  ordered  heralds  to  make  proclamation 
"  that  all  who  had  claims  on  him  should  come  forward, 
and  that  all  his  debts  should  be  paid  fully,  and  more 
than  fully,  to  avoid  occasion  afterwards  of  detraction 
or  complaint." 

After  having  thus  sacrificed  to  honor,  Richard  went 
on  board  ;  and  the  royal  fleet  weighed  anchor  amid 
the  tears  and  lamentations  of  the  Syrian  Christians. 
"  Oh,  Jerusalem,  bereft  now  of  every  succor,"  they 
exclaimed,  "  how  hast  thou  lost  thy  defender  !  Who 
will  protect  thee,  should  the  truce  be  broken,  now  that 
King  Richard  is  departed." 

The  great  crusader  appears  to  have  been  pro- 
foundly affected  when  he  sailed  from  Acre.  Though 
time  had  removed  many  an  illusion,  his  heart  still 
clung  to  the  Syrian  soil ;  and  at  dawn  next  morning 
he  stretched  out  his  hands,  as  he  strained  his  eyes  to 


Richard's  return.  209 

gaze,  for  a  last  time,  at  the  shore  — "  Hohest  of 
lands,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  commend  thee  to  God's 
keeping,  and  I  pray  that  he  may  grant  me  health  to 
come  and  rescue  thee  from  the  infidel." 

The  ship  in  which  the  two  Queens  had  embarked 
reached  Sicily  in  safety ;  but  Richard's  voyage  was 
less  prosperous.  A  storm  arising,  his  fleet  was  scat- 
tered, and  his  vessel  wrecked  on  the  coast  of  Istria. 
Trusting  to  find  his  way  through  Germany,  Richard 
assumed  a  disguise,  and  calling  himself  "  Hugh  the 
Merchant,"  he  journeyed,  in  company  with  a  faithful 
page  and  a  priest  named  Baldwin  de  Bethune,  across 
the  mountains  to  Goritz. 

When  Richard  reached  Goritz,  he  endeavored  to 
assure  his  safety  by  sending  his  page  to  the  governor 
for  a  passport.  The  value  of  a  ring,  with  which  he 
accompanied  the  request,  excited  suspicion ;  and  the 
governor  could  not  conceal  his  surprise.  "  This,"  said 
he,  "  is  not  the  ring  of  a  merchant  :  it  is  that  of  the 
King  of  England."  The  page  on  his  return  related 
the  conversation  that  had  passed,  and  Richard,  in 
alarm,  for  which  there  was  too  much  cause,  departed 
for  Friesach.  Here  a  Norman  knight  recosfnized  the 
King  in  spite  of  his  disguise,  intimated  that  danger 
was  at  hand,  and  presented  him  with  a  fleet  steed  on 
which  to  escape.  Mounting,  and  attended  only  by 
the  page,  who  understood  the  German  language, 
Richard  travelled  without  entering  a  house,  till, 
hungry  and  way-worn,  he  halted  at  the  inn  of  a  little 
village  near  Vienna,  and  despatched  the  page  to  pur- 
chase provisions. 

Fortune  again  proved  unfavorable.  The  dress  of 
18* 


210    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CBUSADER9. 

the  boy  excited  suspicions ;  and,  being  seized  nr\<^ 
threatened,  he  confessed  that  he  had  left  his  master 
asleep  in  a  rustic  hostelry.  A  party  of  Austrian 
soldiers,  conducted  by  the  Duke,  immediately  went  in 
search  ;  and,  entering  the  inn,  they  found  the  royal 
crusader  in  the  kitchen,  busily  employed  in  roasting 
fowls  for  dinner.  Seeing  how  matters  stood,  Richard 
sprang  up,  drew  his  sword,  and  offered  a  desperate 
resistance  ;  but  when  Leopold  appeared,  he  agreed  to 
surrender,  and  gave  up  his  weapon. 

After  being  captured,  Richard  was  incarcerated  in 
an  Austrian  castle  ;  and  the  business  was  managed  so 
secretly,  that  his  very  existence  became  a  matter  of 
doubt  to  his  subjects.  Ere  long,  however,  Blondel  de 
Nesle,  whose  minstrelsy  Cogur  de  Lion  had  patronized, 
undertook  to  discover  him,  and  traversed  Germany 
with  that  object.  For  a  time  the  enterprise  seemed 
hopeless.  One  day,  however,  Blondel,  coming  to  a 
castle  in  Tenebreuse,  learned  with  interest  that  it 
contained  a  solitary  prisoner,  who,  when  he  was  tired 
of  composing  verses  and  found  the  hours  hang  heavy 
on  his  hands,  was  not  above  indulging  in  a  carouse 
with  his  guards. 

Blondel  could  not  learn  the  name  of  the  captive ; 
but,  from  the  description,  he  was  convinced  that  his 
search  had  not  been  in  vain.  Seating  himself  under 
the  prison  window,  he  commenced  a  song  which 
Richard  and  he  had  in  other  days  composed  together. 
No  sooner  had  Blondel  finished  the  first  couplet,  than, 
to  his  joy,  a  well  known  voice  from  the  window,  in 
significant  accents,  sung  the  second.  Blondel,  no 
longer  doubting  that  Richard  was  the  solitary  captive, 


EICnARD's    RETURN.  211 

hastened  to  give  Queen  Eleanor  information  as  to  the 
prison  which  contained  her  Hon-hearted  son. 

On  becoming  aware  of  the  discovery  that  Blondel 
had  made,  the  Duke  of  Austria  trembled.  Terrified 
at  the  thought  of  having  such  a  captive,  and  eager  to 
divest  himself  of  responsibility,  Leopold  surrendered 
Richard  to  Henry  of  Germany.  The  Emperor  felt 
rejoiced  to  get  the  King  of  England  into  his  power ; 
and  at  Easter,  1193,  Cceur  de  Lion  was  removed  to 
a  castle  in  the  Tyrol,  and  soon  after  brought  before  a 
Diet  of  Worms,  charged  with  every  imaginable  crime. 
Being  an  orator,  as  well  as  a  poet,  however,  Richard 
defended  himself  so  eloquently,  that  princes  and  pre- 
lates, with  tears  in  their  eyes,  besought  the  Emperor 
to  act  with  less  rigor  and  more  justice. 

Meanwhile  Queen  Eleanor  implored  the  Pope  to 
obtain  her  son's  release  ;  and  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  in- 
dignant that  the  foremost  champion  of  the  cross  should 
be  in  a  dungeon  and  in  chains,  promptly  interposed. 
Nevertheless,  the  captivity  of  Richard  lasted  another 
year ;  and  he  did  not  regain  his  liberty  till  after 
stipulating  to  pay  an  enormous  ransom.  At  length, 
in  the  spring  of  1194,  Richard  found  himself  free  ; 
and,  passing  through  the  Low  Countries,  he  sailed  for 
England  and  landed  at  Sandwich. 

On  being  restored  to  his  kingdom,  Richard  immedi- 
ately prepared  to  punish  Philip  Augustus  for  the  inju- 
ries he  had  sustained  at  the  hands  of  that  monarch. 
War  broke  out  in  consequence,  and  occupied  Coeur 
de  Lion  for  four  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  the 
struggle  having  become  more  bitter  than  ever,  the  two 
Kings  encountered  near  Gisors.     A  sanguinary  battle 


212    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEKS. 

was  fought,  Richard  performed  prodigies  of  valor,  and 
Philip  fled  in  such  haste  across  the  Epte  that  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  a  watery  grave.  A  truce  having  been 
then  agreed  to,  Richard  marched  into  Aquitaine,  where 
his  foes  were,  in  ballads,  expressing  their  joy  that  the 
arrow  was  forging  which  would  be  fatal  to  CoBur  de 
Lion. 

Many  threatened  men  live  long ;  and  so  perhaps 
might  Richard  but  for  his  imperious  humor.  Hap- 
pening to  hear^  after  his  arrival  at  Aquitaine,  that  a 
peasant,  while  ploughing,  had  turned  up  a  valuable 
treasure,  in  the  shape  of  a  golden  ornament  repre- 
senting a  Roman  Emperor  at  table,  and  that  it  had 
been  seized  by  the  Viscount  of  the  district,  Richard 
immediately  claimed  his  share  as  sovereign  of  the 
country.  The  Viscount,  however,  declared  he  had 
received  nothing  but  a  pot  of  coins ;  and  Richard, 
in  anger,  besieged  his  castle.  Reduced,  ere  long,  to 
extremity,  the  garrison  were  on  the  point  of  surren- 
dering, when  unluckily,  while  the  King  was  riding 
round  to  survey  the  fortress,  an  arrow  from  the  cross- 
bow of  a  youth,  named  Adam  de  Gordon,  pierced  his 
shoulder.  The  wound,  being  unskilfully  treated,  mor- 
tified ;  and  the  King,  after  enduring  agony  for  davs, 
during  which  the  castle  yielded,  learned  that  his  end 
was  at  hand. 

On  hearing  that  his  wound  was  mortal,  Richard 
desired  to  see  the  youth  who  had  shot  the  arrow,  and 
Gordon  was  brousfht  to  his  couch. 

"  Did  you  discharge  the  shaft  with  intent  to  kill  ?  " 
asked  the  King. 

"  Yes,  tyrant,"  answered  the  youth,  "  and  it   was 


kichard's  return.  213 

to  avenge  my  father  and  brother,  who  both  fell  by 
your  hand,  and  to  rid  the  world  of  one  who  has  done 
so  much  mischief!  " 

"  Well,"  said  Richard,  "  I  forgive  you." 
Soon  after  this  scene,  Richard  expu'ed.  According 
to  his  own  request,  his  heart  was  carried  to  the  cathe- 
dral of  Rouen,  and  the  body  was  laid,  with  royal 
honors,  at  his  great  father's  feet,  in  the  Abbey  of 
Foutrevault. 


214    THE  CKUSADES  AND  IKE  CRUSADEKS. 


CHAPTER   XV. 


SACK    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY. 


When  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion  sailed  from  Acre, 
and  the  Syrian  Christians  were  left  to  their  own  re- 
sources, the  condition  of  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem 
became  daily  worse. 

The  Pope,  it  is  true,  ever  and  anon  endeavored  to 
rouse  Europe  to  succor  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ;  and,  in 
1202,  a  multitude  of  crusaders,  under  Baldwin  Count 
of  Flanders,  directed  their  steps  eastward.  But,  in- 
fluenced by  Dandolo,  the  old  blind  doge  of  Venice, 
these  warriors  turned  aside  to  seize  the  maritime  towns 
of  Istria ;  and  finally,  after  twice  attacking  Constanti- 
nople, they  deposed  the  heir  of  Alexis  Comnenus,  and 
installed  the  Count  of  Flanders  as  Emperor  of  the 
East. 

]\lean while  the  Syrian  Christians  were  by  a  tragical 
accident  deprived  of  the  King  under  whose  auspices 
they  had  been  left  by  Cceur  de  Lion.  One  day,  while 
standing  at  a  window  of  his  palace  and  watching  the 
movements  of  troops,  Henry  of  Champagne  fell  to  the 
ground  and  was  killed  on  the  spot.  The  widow  of  the 
unfortunate  man  gave  her  hand  to  Almeric  de  Lusig- 
nan,  who  had  succeeded  Guy  as  King  of  Cyprus.  But 
both  Almeric  and  his  spouse  soon  went  the  way  of  all 


SA.CK    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  215 

flcsli  ;  and  the  Christians  of  the  East  sent  to  the  court 
of  France  to  offer  the  crown  of  Jerusalem,  and  the 
hand  of  a  daughter  whom  Isabel  had  made  Conrad  of 
Montferrat  the  father,  to  any  warrior  who  would 
undertake  to  defend  them  against  the  Saracens. 

When  the  ambassadors  reached  the  court  of  Paris, 
in  search  of  a  knight  who  would  espouse  the  heiress 
of  Jerusalem  and  save  what  yet  remained  of  the  king- 
dom, John  de  Brienne,  an  aristocratic  adventurer,  joy- 
fully placed  himself  at  their  service  ;  and,  attended  by 
three  hundred  French  gentlemen,  he  forthwith  set  out 
for  the  East.  On  reaching  Acre,  he  celebrated  his 
marriage  with  the  daughter  of  Conrad  ;  and  prepared 
to  defend  her  territories.  Finding,  however,  that  he 
could  hardly  answer  for  the  security  of  Acre,  he  sent 
messengers  to  the  Pope  imploring  aid.  At  that  time, 
however,  the  Pope  was  too  earnestly  occupied  with  his 
war  against  the  Albigenses  to  care  about  the  Moslems  ; 
and  the  warriors,  whom  a  spirit  of  adventure  might 
otherwise  have  tempted  to  the  East,  found  full  employ- 
ment in  Languedoc  and  Provence. 

At  length,  in  1215,  a  council  was  held  to  consider 
the  affairs  of  the  East  ;  and  the  warriors  of  Europe 
were  urged  to  precipitate  themselves  once  more  on 
Asia.  Multitudes  took  the  cross ;  and  marched  east- 
ward under  the  King  of  Hungary  and  the  Duke  of 
Austria.  Indeed  they  appeared  so  numerous  on  land- 
ing at  Acre,  that  the  Saracens  heard  of  their  coming 
with  serious  alarm. 

At  the  head  of  the  host  of  armed  pilgrims,  John  do 
Brienne  marched  from  Acre,  and  attacked  Mount 
Tabor,  which  Saladin   had   fortified  in  such  a  way  as 


216     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

to  be  a  perpetual  menace.  When  on  the  point  of 
victory,  however,  the  crusaders  were  seized  with  panic 
and  made  a  precipitate  retreat.  Soon  after  the  King 
of  Hungary  returned  to  Europe  ;  but  John  de  Brienne, 
reinforced  by  new  arrivals,  undertook  an  expedition  to 
the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  sat  down  before  Damietta. 

Damietta,  destined  to  become  so  famous  in  connec- 
tion with  the  crusades,  stood  on  the  northern  bank  of 
the  second  mouth  of  the  Nile,  about  a  mile  from  the 
sea,  and  was  strongly  fortified.  Nevertheless,  after  a 
siege  of  nineteen  months,  the  crusaders  were  success- 
ful in  taking  the  city,  and,  elate  with  success,  marched 
to  Cairo.  In  alarm,  the  Sultan  prepared  to  treat  ;  and 
not  only  offered  to  yield  Jerusalem  to  the  Christians, 
but  to  allow  them  to  remain  in  possession  of  Damietta. 
The  papal  legate,  however,  said  "  No,"  and  the  Mos- 
lem ambassadors  carried  his  answer  to  the  Sultan. 

Ere  long,  the  crusaders,  after  havmg  been  a  month 
at  Cairo,  were  startled  by  the  overflowing  of  the 
Nile,  and  soon  found  themselves  in  a  ludicrously 
dismal  plight.  It  appeared,  in  fact,  that  the  Saracens, 
opening  their  sluices,  had  filled  the  canals ;  and  the 
Christian  camp,  deluged  by  water,  was  in  such  danger 
of  being  submerged,  that  the  legate  had  to  undergo 
the  humiliation  of  applying  to  the  Sultan  for  forbear- 
ance. Ambassadors  going  to  the  Moslem  camp,  in 
the  name  of  humanity  craved  peace,  offered  to  sur- 
render Damietta,  and  only  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
return  to  Acre.  After  dehberating,  the  Moslem  chiefs 
agreed  ;  and  the  armed  pilgrims  sadly  and  sorrowfully 
marched  back  to  Syria. 

Intelligence   of    the    catastrophe    at   Cairo    reached 


SACK    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  217 

Rome  ;  and  the  Pope  upbraided  Frederick  the  Second, 
Emperor  of  Germany,  for  having  been  the  idle  spec- 
tator of  a  struggle,  in  which  he  had  solemnly  prom- 
ised to  take  part.  In  order  to  give  the  Emperor  a 
motive  for  proceeding  to  the  Holy  Land,  the  Pope 
•♦proposed  that  he  should  wed  Yolande,  daughter  of 
John  de  Brienne,  and  the  marriage  was  celebrated  at 
Rome,  the  father  of  the  bride  taking  part  in  the  cere- 
mony. John  de  Brienne  was,  at  first,  quite  delighted 
at  the  idea  of  having  so  great  a  potentate  for  a  son-in- 
law  ;  but  ere  long,  he  was  mortified  to  hear  the  Ger- 
man CsDsar  proclaimed  King  of  Jerusalem,  and  to  find 
himself  set  aside  as  of  no  consequence. 

While  such  was  the  position  of  the  Christian  king- 
dom, the  Sultan  of  Cairo  sent  ambassadors  to  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  with  an  invitation  to  come  to 
the  East.  Frederick,  on  his  part,  returned  a  most 
courteous  answer,  and  soon  after  embarked  with  six 
hundred  knights.  The  Pope,  who  meanwhile  had 
quarrelled  with  Frederick,  denounced  him  as  a  captain 
of  pirates,  and  prayed  heaven  to  confound  his  sacri- 
legious enterprise.  Nevertheless,  the  Emperor  pur- 
sued his  voyage,  and  reaching  the  Syrian  coast  in 
safety,  sailed  triumphantly  into  the  port  of  Acre. 

Scarcely  had  the  Sultan  of  Cairo  been  informed  of 
the  Emperor's  arrival,  when  he  led  an  army  into 
Palestine ;  and  Frederick,  marching  out  of  Acre, 
directed  his  course  towards  the  mountains  of  Nap- 
louse.  But  matters  gradually  reached  such  a  stage, 
that  tiie  Emperor  and  the  Sultan  recognized  the  neces- 
sity of  immediately  concluding  a  peace.  A  truce  for 
ten  years  was  agreed  upon.  Jerusalem  was,  with 
19 


218         THE    CRTTSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEKS.  : 

Nazareth  and  other  places,  given  up  to  the  Christians ; 
the  Moslems  stipulating  for  the  free  exercise  of  their 
religion  and  for  retaining  the  mosque  of  Omar. 

Both  by  Christians  and  Saracens,  the  treaty  was 
deemed  disgraceful.  Frederick,  however,  hastened  to 
make  his  public  entry  into  the  city  which  he  had 
recovered.  Accompanied  by  his  barons,  he,  in  the 
spring  of  1229,  repaired  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  placed  the  crown  of  Jerusalem  on  his 
head,  and  proclaimed  himself  King.  The  scene  was 
remarkable.  The  monks,  pretending  to  be  scandalized, 
had  deserted  the  sacred  edifice,  and  no  religious  cere- 
mony gave  impressiveness  to  Frederick's  coronation. 
But  when  the  Emperor  crowned  himself,  lances  and 
swords  appeared  around  the  altar  ;  and,  when  he  was 
proclaimed  king,  enthusiastic  acclamations  from  mailed 
warriors  indicated  their  resolution  to  support  him  to  the 
last. 

After  his  coronation  at  Jerusalem,  Frederick  re- 
turned to  Germany ;  the  Holy  City  lay  almost  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Saracens  ;  and  Europe  became  indif- 
ferent to  its  fate.  The  feud  of  Pope  and  Emperor 
monopolised  attention  ;  while  sympathy  for  the  un- 
happy plight  of  the  Latin  Empire  of  Constantinople, 
which  was  not  destined  to  endure,  allured  thither 
many  warriors  who  would  otherwise  have  drawn 
their  swords  for  the  Sepulchre. 

It  is  true  that  expeditions  to  the  East  were  preached 
by  popes  and  undertaken  by  princes ;  but  the  results 
were  not  satisfactory.  In  1239,  Theobald,  King  of 
Navarre,  conducted  a  band  of  warriors  to  Acre,  and 
fought  a  battle  with  the  Saracens  at  Gaza,  where  his 


SACK    OE    THE    HOLY    CITY.  219 

followers  perished  almost  to  a  man.  In  1240,  Rich- 
ard, Earl  of  Cornwall,  brother  of  our  third  Henry, 
appeared  in  Syria ;  but  he  found  the  discord  among 
the  Christians  so  discouraging,  that  he  was  fain  to  con- 
clude a  treaty  with  the  Sultan  and  return  to  Europe. 

Meanwhile  Jerusalem,  without  fortifications,  was 
perpetually  exposed  to  danger.  The  peasants  of  the 
mountains  of  Naplouse  kept  the  Christian  inhabitants 
in  continual  dread  of  attack ;  and  the  great  bell  of 
the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  frequently  gave 
warning  of  the  approach  of  foes,  eager  for  carnage 
and  plunder.  Beset  with  perils,  encompassed  with 
difficulties,  and  well  nigh  hopeless  of  further  aid 
from  Europe,  the  Christians  of  the  East,  about  the 
middle  of  the  thirteenth  century,  found  themselves  in 
sight  of  ruin,  and  on  the  verge  of  despair. 

Such  was  their  situation  when,  ui  1238,  Melikul- 
Adil,  the  seventh  Sultan  of  Saladin's  line,  succeeded  ; 
but  he  had  scarcely  reigned  two  years,  when  liis 
subjects  were  thoroughly  disgusted  with  his  gross  de- 
bauchery. He  soon  lost  popularity  ;  and  the  Egyp- 
tians, exasperated,  called  his  brother,  Melikul-Salih,  to 
the  throne.  Scarcely  was  the  latter  crowned,  when  a 
Moslem  prince  seized  Damascus,  formed  an  alliance 
with  the  Christians,  and  the  Sultan,  unable  to  maintain 
himself  without  aid,  looked  around  for  allies. 

It  happened  that  the  Tartars  had  just  seized  Karis- 
mia,  and  the  Karismians,  a  wild  race,  finding  themselves 
without  a  country,  applied  to  the  Sultan.  Melikul- 
Salih,  considering  how  valuable  the  weapons  of  the 
expatiated  warriors  might  be,  proposed  that  they 
should  march  against  the  Christians. 


220  THE    CKUSADES    AXD    THE    CEUSADEKS. 

On  receiving  the  Sultan's  offer,  the  Karismians 
rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  plunder,  assembled  to  the 
number  of  twenty  thousand  ;  and  bringing  their  women 
and  cliildren  in  their  train,  marched  towards  Jerusalem. 
Having  ravaged  Tripoli  and  Galilee,  on  their  way,  they 
ere  long  approached  the  devoted  city.  No  feeling  of 
mercy  was  at  their  hearts.  Indeed,  the  Karismians 
neither  gave  nor  asked  quarter.  Before  going  into 
conflict,  they  were  in  the  habit  of  receiving  a  brief 
order  from  their  leader.  It  was  —  "  You  will  conquer 
or  die." 

Jerusalem  was  in  no  condition  to  defy  such  assail- 
ants. Some  attempts  were  being  made  to  restore  the 
fortifications  ;  but  the  walls  were  still  too  weak  to  stand 
a  siege  ;  and  the  warriors  in  the  Holy  City  were  too 
few  in  number  to  resist  with  any  prospect  of  success. 
When  the  smoke  of  burning  villages  announced 
the  approach  of  the  foe,  most  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Jerusalem  resolved  to  be  gone.  No  time  was  lost. 
Placing  themselves  under  the  guidance  of  the  Templars 
and  Hospitallers,  seven  thousand  persons  abandoned 
the  city.  They  had  just  left  the  city  by  one  side,  when 
the  foe  entered  it  by  the  other. 

The  Karismians  were  somewhat  disappointed  to  find 
Jerusalem  almost  deserted.  Becoming  aware,  however, 
of  the  state  of  matters,  they  determined  on  a  strata- 
gem for  luring  back  the  fugitives.  Without  delay, 
they  raised  the  banner  of  the  cross  on  every  tower  ; 
and  set  a-ringing  all  the  bells  of  the  Holy  City.  The 
trick  had  the  desired  effect.  No  sooner  did  the  Chris- 
tians, who  were  slowly  and  sadly  making  their  way 
towards  Jaffa,  hear  of  the  Christian  standard  floating 


SACK    OF    THE    HOLY    CITY.  221 

over  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  than,  persuadmg  them- 
selves that  the  Karismians  had  either  marched  in  another 
direction  or  miraculously  suffered  a  defeat,  they  has- 
tened to  retrace  their  steps. 

On  entering  the  Holy  City,  the  Christians  dis- 
covered, when  too  late,  how  they  had  been  deluded. 
Every  one  of  them  was  mercilessly  slaughtered ;  and 
blood  flowed  in  streams  down  the  hilly  streets.  No 
respect  was  shown  to  age,  sex,  or  place.  Nuns, 
children,  and  old  people,  who  had  fled  for  refuge  to 
the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  were  slaughtered 
at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  Tombs  were  opened.  The 
bodies  of  heroes  were  burned  ;  the  relics  of  saints  and 
martyrs  were  scattered  to  the  wind  ;  and  night  closed 
over  such  a  scene  of  carnage  and  desolation,  as  in  all 
her  fortunes,  Jerusalam  had  never  before  witnessed. 


19* 


BOOK  THIRD. 
THE   EXPEDITION   OF   ST.  LOUIS. 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE    SAINT-KING. 


About  the  year  1215,  when  the  Pope  was  im- 
pressing on  Christendom  the  necessity  of  arming  to 
save  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  Poissy  witnessed  the  birth  of 
a  prince,  destined  to  associate  his  name  indissolubly 
with  the  crusades.  At  that  place,  on  the  Festival  of 
St.  Mark,  Blanche  of  Castillo,  wife  of  Louis  the 
Eighth,  King  of  France,  became  a  mother  ;  and  the 
heir  then  born  to  the  house  of  Capet,  ascended  the 
French  throne  on  his  father's  death,  with  the  title  of 
Louis  the  Ninth. 

Louis,  when  thus  left  fatherless,  had  hardly  at- 
tained his  eleventh  year  ;  and  he  was  in  no  condition 
to  maintain  himself  against  the  great  feudatories  of 
the  French  crown.  But  Providence  had  blessed  the 
young  King  with  a  mother  who,  whatever  her  fail- 
ings, had  a  high  spirit  and  a  strong  will;  and  Queen 
Blanche  not  only  maintained  the  rights  of  the  French 


THE    SAINT-KING.  223 

monarchy,  but  brought  up  her  son  with  the  most  con- 
siderate care.  She  placed  him  under  the  charge  of 
excellent  masters,  caused  him  to  be  attended  by  re- 
ligious men,  who,  on  Sundays  and  fast-days,  preached 
to  him  the  word  of  God  ;  and  manifested  an  ardent 
ambition  that  he  should  live  a  holy  and  virtuous  \ik. 
"  I  would  rather,"  she  was  often  heard  to  say, "  see 
my  son  in  the  grave  than  that  he  should  commit  a 
mortal  sin." 

Educated  under  the  auspices  of  such  a  mother, 
Louis,  as  years  passed  over,  became  celebrated 
among  contemporary  princes  for  his  sanctity.  He 
ever  lived  as  if  conscious  that  the  eye  of  his  Maker 
was  upon  him,  and  passed  most  of  his  time  in  devo- 
tional exercises.  Every  morning  he  heard  prayers 
chanted,  and  a  mass  of  requiem  and  the  service 
of  the  day  sung ;  every  afternoon,  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  reclining  on  his  couch,  and,  with  one  of 
his  chaplains,  repeating  prayers  for  the  dead ;  and 
every  evening  he  made  a  point  of  hearing  com- 
plines. 

At  the  time  when  Louis  was  attending,  with  con- 
scientious regularity,  to  his  religious  duties,  the  Saint- 
king  was  not  negligent  of  those  that  devolved  upon 
him  as  a  sovereign.  One  day,  when  he  was  at  the 
castle  of  Hieres,  a  Cordelier  friar  approached.  "  Sire," 
said  he,  "  I  have  read  in  the  Bible,  and  other  good 
books,  of  unbelieving  princes  ;  yet  I  never  found  a 
kingdom  of  believers  or  unbelievers  ruined  but  from 
the  want  of  justice  being  duly  administered.  Now 
let  the  King,  who  I  perceive  is  going  to  France,  be 
careful    to    administer  justice,   that    our   Lord   may 


224    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

suffer  him  to  enjoy  his  kingdom,  and  that  it  may 
remain  in  peace  and  tranquility  all  the  days  of  liis 
life." 

The  words  of  the  Cordelier  sunk  deep  into  the 
King's  heart ;  and,  from  that  date,  it  appears  that 
Louis  devoted  much  attention  to  the  administra- 
tion of  justice.  Sometimes  in  summer  time,  after 
saying  mass,  he  would  repair  to  the  gardens  of  his 
palace,  and  seating  himself  on  a  carpet,  listen  to  those 
who  wished  to  appeal  to  him  ;  and,  at  other  times, 
he  would  betake  himself  to  the  wood  of  Vincennes, 
and,  reclining  under  the  shadow  of  an  oak,  devote 
himself  to  the  decision  of  causes  with  exemplary 
diligence.  All  who  had  complaints  to  make  might 
come  on  such  occasions  ;  and  no  ceremony  was  per- 
mitted that  could  keep  the  poor  from  the  justice-seat 
of  the  King. 

While  showing  his  devotion  to  his  God  and  his 
neighbor,  Louis  entertained  no  insuperable  aversion 
to  bucklmg  on  the  mail  of  a  warrior  ;  and  when  he 
mounted  liis  steed  and  laid  his  lance  in  rest,  his  foes 
found  him  "  no  carpet  Ivnight."  It  happened  that,  in 
1242,  the  Counts  De  la  Marche  and  De  Foix,  growing 
malecontent,  formed  a  confederacy  against  the  throne ; 
and  invited  Henry,  King  of  England,  to  regain  the 
provinces  taken  by  Philip  Augustus  from  Henry's 
father.  King  John.  The  confederacy  seemed  most 
formidable  ;  and  the  English  monarch,  allured  by  the 
prospect  of  recovering  Normandy  cmd  Anjou,  crossed 
the  sea,  with  an  army,  and  prepared  for  hostihties. 
But  Louis  was  not  to  be  daunted.  Girdinsr  on  his 
mail,  he  placed  himself  at  the   head  of  an  army,  and 


THE    SAINT-KING.  225 

appeared  to  offer  his  allied  adversaries  battle  on  the 
banks  of  the  Charcnte,  near  the  bridge  of  Taille- 
bourg. 

The  courage  of  Louis  produced  a  striking  effect  on 
his  adversaries.  The  confederates  found  they  had 
mistaken  their  man ;  and  Henry,  accusing  the  Count 
De  la  Marche  of  having  deceived  him,  fled,  without 
drawing  rein,  to  the  village  of  Saintonge.  Louis, 
however,  pursued  ;  and,  the  EngUsh  turning  to  bay,  a 
fierce  conflict  took  place.  But  the  armies  were  quite 
unequal.  Though  the  barons  of  England  fought  with 
desperate  valor,  they  were  soon  worsted  ;  and,  to  save 
his  hfe,  Henry,  hotly  pursued  by  Louis,  was  under 
the  necessity  of  flying  to  Bordeaux.  From  tliis 
period,  it  was  perfectly  understood  that  the  Saint- 
king  could  hold  his  own  ;  and  neither  French  counts 
nor  foreign  pruices  relished  the  idea  of  provoking  liis 
vengeance. 

When  Louis  had  reached  the  age  of  nineteen. 
Queen  Blanche  became  anxious  to  find  a  bride  worthy 
of  sharing  the  French  throne ;  and,  for  reasons  of 
state,  cast  her  eyes  wistfully  towards  the  family  of 
Raymond  Berenger,  Count  of  Provence.  Raymond, 
who  was  a  cadet  of  the  royal  family  of  Arragon,  had 
early  won  fame  as  the  most  accomplished  man  in 
Europe,  and  married  Beatrice,  daughter  of  the 
Count  of  Savoy,  a  princess  with  "  thought,  feel- 
ing, taste,  harmonious  to   his  own."     Five  daughters, 

« 

all  destined  to  be  queens,  had  sprung  from  this 
union  ;  and  Margaret  of  Provence,  the  eldest  of  these, 
was  just  six  years  younger  than  Louis.  Blanche 
found    little  difliculty  in  securing   the  hand   of  Ray- 


226    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

moiid's  daughter  for  her  son  ;  and,  without  delay,  the 
Provencal  Princess  appeared  in  Paris  as  Queen  of 
France. 

But  ladies  are  capricious  :  and  royal  ladies  are  in 
this  respect  like  their  neighbors.  No  sooner  was 
Margaret  of  Provence  brought  to  her  new  home,  than 
Blanche  of  Castille  became  apprehensive  that  the 
young  wife  might  terminate  the  mfluence  she  had 
hitherto  exercised  over  the  Saint-king.  The  Queen- 
dowager,  however,  had  no  idea  of  allowing  her  power 
to  be  unperilled.  On  one  pretext  or  another,  she 
resolved  to  keep  the  royal  pair  separate  ,  and  nothing 
could  exceed  the  tyranny  which,  with  this  view,  she 
exercised  over  their  movements.  AVhen  the  two 
Queens  made  royal  progresses  with  the  King  through 
his  dominions,  Blanche  always  took  care  that  Louis 
and  Margaret  should  lodge  in  different  houses;  and 
even  in  cases  of  sickness  the  mother-in-law  did  not 
relent.  On  one  occasion,  when  the,  court  was  at 
Pointoise,  and  IVIargaret  lay  in  danger  of  death,  Louis 
stole  to  her  chamber.  While  he  w^as  there,  Blanche 
entered,  bent  her  brow,  shook  her  head,  and,  taking 
the  intruder  by  the  shoulder,  turned  him  out  of  the 
room. 

"  Go  along,  sir,"  said  she  sternly,  pushing  him 
away  from  the  door  ;  "  you  can  do  no  good  here." 

"  Alas,  madam,"  said  Margaret,  her  heart  sicken- 
ing as  she  spoke,  "  will  you  not  allow  me  to  see 
my  lord  either  when   I  am  living  or  when   I  am  dy- 


ing 


?  " 


Such  was  the   intolerable  domestic   tyranny  under 
wliich  the  Saint-king  and  liis   fair  spouse  were  Uving, 


THE    SAr>'T-KING.  227 

when  circumstances  fired  one  with  the  idea  of  under- 
taking a  crusade,  and  gave  the  other  a  fair  excuse  for 
escaping  from  the  termagant  mother-in-law  of  whom 
she  had  been  the  victim. 


228    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    II. 


FRANCE    IN    MOTION. 


When,  in  1244,  the  sack  of  Jerusalem  by  the 
Karismians  took  place,  most  of  the  princes  of  Chris- 
tendom were  too  much  occupied  with  their  own  affairs 
to  concern  themselves  particularly  about  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  was  struggling 
with  the  Pope ;  the  King  of  England  was  battling 
with  his  barons  ;  the  King  of  Castillo  was  contend- 
ing v/ith  the  Moors ;  the  King  of  Denmark  was  at 
war  with  his  own  brother  ;  the  King  of  Sweden  was 
at  feud  with  the  house  of  Tolekunger ;  and  the 
King  of  Poland  was  exerting  all  his  strength  to 
resist  the  inroads  of  Tartar  hordes.  France  alone 
was  at  peace  and  in  a  condition  to  send  forth  warriors 
to  the  East ;  and  it  was  from  France,  that  an  answer 
was  vouchsafed  to  the  cry  of  distress  that  reached 
Europe  from  Asia. 

It  happened  that,  when  news  of  the  sack  of  Jeru- 
salem reached  Paris,  Louis  the  Ninth  was  suffering 
from  illness.  Gradually  becoming  worse,  the  King 
ere  long  reached  such  a  state  of  prostration,  that  his 
recovery  was  despaired  of :  and  his  attendants  were 
at  times  in  doubt  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive.  As 
if    by    a    miracle,    however,  he    was    snatched    from 


FRANCE    IN    MOTION.  229 

the  gates  of  death;  and  the  first  use  he  made  of 
his  facuhies,  was  to  order  a  cross  to  be  attached  to 
his  vestments.  On  seeing  her  son  wearing  the 
cross,  Queen  Blanche  was  terrified  —  "struck  as 
fearfully,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  as  if  she  had  seen 
him  dead."  The  truth  was,  that,  in  gratitude  for  his 
unexpected  recovery,  the  Saint-king  had  vowed  to 
undertake  an  expedition  for  the  recovery  of"  the  Sep- 
ulchre. 

The  resolution  of  the  King  was  the  reverse  of 
agreeable  either  to  his  family  or  his  subjects,  and 
earnest  attempts  were  made  to  divert  him  from 
his  purpose.  But,  during  his  illness,  his  imagina- 
tion had  been  affected  in  the  highest  degree ;  and 
his  enthusiasm  was  much  too  ardent  to  be  restrained. 
Steadfastly  clinging  to  the  idea,  which  haunted  him 
while  under  the  influence  of  fever,  he  formally  took 
the  cross,  and  sent  intelligence  to  the  East,  that 
he  was  assembling  an  army,  with  which  to  cross  the 
sea. 

While  the  King  of  France  was  thus  expressing 
his  resolution  to  undertake  a  crusade,  a  Cardinal, 
as  papal  legate,  arrived  to  publish  a  decree  of 
the  celebrated  Council  of  Lyons,  respecting  the 
Holy  Land.  After  the  crusade  had  been  preached 
in  the  churches  of  the  kingdom,  Louis  summoned 
a  parliament  at  Paris  ;  and  the  Cardinal  havmg 
first  addressed  the  assembled  peers  and  prelates, 
the  King  reminded  them  of  the  expeditions  of  Louis 
the  Seventh  and  Philip  Augustus,  and  appealed  to 
them,  as  Christians  and  gentlemen,  to  talce  part  in 
the  expedition. 

20 


230    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADEES. 

As  the  King  finished  his  speech,  his  brothers, 
Robert,  Count  of  Artois,  Alphonse,  Count  of  Poictiers, 
and  Charles,  Count  of  Anjou,  stepped  forward  and 
took  the  cross ;  and  Queen  Margaret,  the  Countess 
of  Artois,  and  the  Countess  of  Poictiers,  followed  the 
example  of  their  husbands.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  Count  of  Brittany,  the  Count 
de  Soissons,  the  Count  de  la  Marche,  Sir  Peter 
de  Montfort,  the  Lord  of  Courtenay,  and  many- 
other  French  magnates,  swore  to  accompany  their 
King. 

Matters  having  reached  this  stage,  preparations 
commenced  ;  and  Louis  set  himself  to  provide  the 
means  of  going  to  the  East.  It  appears  that,  to 
defray  the  cost  of  his  expedition,  the  King  applied 
to  the  Pope  ;  and  the  Pope  granted  him  a  tenth  of 
the  clergy's  revenues  for  three  years.  This  tax  was 
somewhat  rigorously  levied ;  and  one  poor  priest, 
who  only  enjoyed  twenty  shillings  of  annual  income, 
had  to  pay  two  yearly.  Complaints  from  the  clergy 
were  heard  on  all  hands ;  and  laymen  remarked,  with 
a  chuckle,  that  the  estates  of  the  clergy  were  shorn  as 
bare  as  their  crowns. 

Notwithstanding  the  zeal  displayed  by  Louis,  pre- 
parations went  on  slowly  ;  and  three  years  passed  ere 
he  was  in  a  position  to  leave  France.  Before  depart- 
ing, he  convoked  a  second  parliament ;  and,  having 
made  the  peers  and  prelates  swear  loyalty  to  his 
family,  in  the  event  of  his  not  returning,  he  repaired 
to  St.  Denis,  and,  from  the  hands  of  the  legate,  re- 
ceived the  pilgrim's  staff  and  scrip,  and  the  oriflamme 
of  France. 


FKA^'CE    IN    MOTION.  231 

This  ceremony  over,  Louis  left  Paris,  to  proceed  to 
Aigrus-Mortes,  which  ho  had  appointed  as  the  place 
of  embarkation.  At  Lyons,  the  Pope  appeared  to 
give  the  King  his  blessing  ;  and  Louis  made  an  effort 
to  reconcile  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor.  The  Pope, 
however,  refused  to  listen  to  the  King's  mediation ; 
and  Louis  gave  way  to  a  false  scruple,  which  proved 
the  cause  of  severe  calamities. 

The  truth  was,  that  the  safety  of  the  French  army 
much  depended  on  the  route  selected  ;  and  the  safest 
way  to  the  Holy  Land  was  understood  to  be  through 
Sicily.  Unluckily,  however,  Sicily  was  subject  to  the 
Empire ;  and  the  Emperor  was  under  excommunica- 
tion by  the  Pope  ;  and  Louis  feared  to  set  his  foot  in 
a  land  under  ban.  He  therefore  resolved  upon  a  great 
sacrifice;  and,  instead  of  passing  through  Sicily  to 
Syria,  announced  his  intention  of  proceeding  by  way 
of  Cyprus,  into  Egypt. 

At  Aigrus-]Mortes,  Louis  had  caused  a  harbor 
to  be  constructed  ;  and  there  his  fleet  awaited  him. 
Having  embarked  about  the  end  of  August,  1248, 
with  his  Queen,  and  the  Counts  of  Artois  and 
Anjou,  Louis  set  sail  for  Cyprus,  and  after  a  voyage 
of  four  weeks,  landed  at  Limisso,  from  which,  sLxty 
years  earlier,  Richard,  King  of  England,  had,  battle- 
axe  in  hand,  chased  the  Emperor  Isaac. 

Louis,  however,  had  no  occasion  to  emulate  the 
prowess  of  Cceur  de  Lion ;  for  a  Christian  king, 
surrounded  by  Christian  barons,  now  reigned  over 
Cyprus ;  and  the  reception  of  the  saintly  crusader 
was  all  that  could  have  been  wished.  After  being 
welcomed   at   Limisso   by   Henry  de  Lusignan,  sove- 


232    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

reign  of  the  island,  he  proceeded  to  Nicosia,  and, 
having  entered  that  capital  amid  the  cheers  of  the 
clergy,  nobles,  and  people,  he  awaited  the  arrival  of 
his  friends  and  followers. 


THE    EAKLS    OF    SALISCUiiY    AND    DUNBAK.       233 


CHAPTER    III. 


THE    EARLS    OF    SALISBUHY    AND    DUNBAE. 

While  King  Louis  was  making  preparations  in 
France  for  his  expedition  to  the  Holy  Land,  England 
did  not  remain  altogether  indifferent  to  what  was 
passing  on  the  Continent.  Many  of  the  Anglo- 
Norman  knights  exhibited  a  desire  to  take  port  in  an 
adventure,  from  which  so  much  glory  was  anticipated  ; 
and,  if  the  King  had  encouraged  the  movement,  a 
noble  host  would  have  left  our  shores.  But  Henry  the 
Third,  short-sighted  as  usual,  kept  the  barons  at  home 
to  fight  against  the  crown  ;  and  not  only  warned  his 
subjects  not  to  take  the  cross,  but  forbade  the  preach- 
ms,  of  a  crusade  in  his  kingdom. 

The  English  barons  had  never  been  disposed  to 
regard  their  sovereign's  word  as  law  ;  and,  though  the 
King's  prohibition  prevented  any  general  movement, 
several  took  the  cross,  and  declared  their  determina- 
tion of  going  to  fight  the  infidels.  Of  these,  the  most 
renowned  was  a  great  earl,  nearly  but  illegitimately 
connected  ^\'ith  the  royal  house. 

Among   the   barons  of  England,  at  the    opening  of 
the   thirteenth   century,  few   were  more  conspicuous 
than   the   eldest  of  the    two    sons  whom  "  fair  Rosa- 
mond "    bore   to  the    first  of   our  Plantagenet  kings. 
20* 


234         THE    CJRUSADES   AND    THE    CE-USADERS. 

Gifted  by  his  sire  with  the  earldom  of  SaHsbury,  and 
united  in  marriage  to  Hela  Deveraux,  an  heiress  of 
that  Norman  race  whose  chiefs  in  after-acres  foucht  at 
Bosworth  and  Edgehill,  this  stalwart  warrior  flourished 
till  the  year  1226,  and  dying  left  a  son,  the  heir  of  his 
name,  his  earldom,  and  his  valor. 

William,  second  Earl  of  Salisbury,  surnamed  "  Long- 
sword,"  soon  became  even  more  famous  than  his  sire, 
and  proved  his  courage  in  a  remarkable  manner,  on 
that  day  when  the  warriors  of  England  fought  against 
fearful  odds  at  the  village  of  Saintonge.  At  the  time 
when  Richard,  Earl  of  Cornwall,  went  to  Palestine, 
Longsword  appears  to  have  taken  the  cross  ;  and  no 
sooner  did  he  learn  that  King  Louis  had  resolved  on 
an  "  armed  pilgi'image,"  than  he  again  assumed  the 
sacred  badge,  along  with  Robert  de  Vere  and  Geoffrey 
Lucy. 

Henrv  was  not  the  man  to  submit  tamelv  to  this 
contempt  for  his  authority.  Immediately  resolving  on 
strong  measures,  he  seized  Salisbury's  earldom  and 
castles ;  and  the  earl  found  himself  at  his  wits'  end 
for  money.  But  Longsword  was  not  to  be  baffled. 
AVithout  hesitation  he  repaired  to  Rome  ;  and,  craving 
an  interview  with  the  Pope,  frankly  explained  the 
dilemma  in  which  he  found  himself. 

"  My  Lord,"  said  the  Earl,  on  being  admitted  to  the 
presence  of  his  Holiness,  "  you  see  that  I  have  taken 
the  cross,  and  am  ready  to  join  the  French  King  in  his 
pilgrimage,  and  to  fight  for  God.  I  bear  a  great  name, 
and  one  well  known,  namely,  William  Longsword. 
But  my  property  is  small :  for  the  King,  my  kinsman 
and  lioge  lord,  has  taken  from  me  my  title  of  carl  and 


THE  EARLS  OF  SALISBURY  AND  DUNBAR.        ^35 

all  my  substance.  This,  however,  he  did  judicially  — 
not  m  his  anger  or  any  violence  of  self-will  ;  therefore 
I  do  not  blame  him.  I  am  obliged  to  fly  to  your 
paternal  bosom  in  this  necessity ;  and  if  the  Earl  of 
Cornwall  has  been  able  to  obtain,  without  taking  the 
cross,  the  privilege  of  levying  a  tax  upon  those  who 
have  laid  it  down,  I  have  thought  that  I  might  obtain  a 
similar  favor  —  I,  who  have  no  resource  but  the  charity 
of  the  faithful." 

The  Pope  Hstened  with  attention  to  the  EarPs 
speech.  In  fact,  the  grandeur  of  Longsword's  aspect 
could  not  fail  to  make  an  impression ;  and  his  elo- 
quence was  such  as  to  justify  the  boast  that  Norman 
gentlemen  were  orators  from  their  cradles.  After 
musing  for  a  moment,  the  Pope  smiled  and  informed 
the  eloquent  warrior  that  his  petition  was  granted. 

Salisbury,  having  succeeded  so  far,  returned  to  Eng- 
land, and  made  all  arrangements.  Before  leaving  the 
country,  he  proceeded  to  the  abbey  of  Lacock  to  take 
leave  of  his  mother,  who  was  the  abbess  of  that  rehg- 
ious  house.  The  abbess  then  gave  the  Earl  her  bless- 
ing ,  and  Longsword  bade  adieu  to  his  mother,  whom 
he  was  not  destined  to  see  again. 

At  length,  early  in  the  spring  of  1249,  Salisbury  set 
forward  on  his  expedition,  and  sailed  from  England. 
The  mandate  of  Henry  had  prevented  any  general 
movement  among  the  great  barons  ;  and  the  Bigods 
and  Bohuns  remained  to  worry  him  at  Westminster, 
and  to  fight  against  him  at  Lewes.  Nevertheless, 
Longsword  was  nobly  attended  when  he  embarked  to 
join  the  Saint-kmg  of  France.  Robert  de  Vere  carried 
the  EarPs  bannei* ;  and  with  liim  went  two  hundred 


236     THE  CEUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADEES. 

English  knights  of  noble  name  and  dauntless  courage, 
sworn  to  bring  that  banner  back  with  glory,  or  dye  it 
with  their  heart's  blood. 

But  if  Louis  had  not  the  company  of  many  Anglo- 
Norman  barons,  whose  military  genius  made  them 
such  formidable  war-chiefs,  he  could  boast  of  being 
attended  by  the  most  illustrious  patrician  who  sprang 
from  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  While  Salisbury  and  his 
friends  were  leaving  the  English  shores,  there  might 
have  been  seen  sailing  out  of  the  beautiful  bay  of 
Belhaven  some  ships  of  war  with  a  lion-argent  painted 
on  the  sails.  This  was  the  fleet  of  Patrick,  Earl  of 
Dunbar,  a  venerable  warrior,  whose  spear  had  often 
drunk  deep  of  Celtic  gore,  while  exerting  himself,  like 
all  the  chiefs  of  his  line,  to  establish  law  and  spread 
civihzation  north  of  the  Tweed. 

At  the  time  when  King  Louis  announced  his  intention 
of  going  to  the  East,  Earl  Patrick  had  long  passed  the 
age  of  threescore.  But  though  his  hair  was  white  and 
his  limbs  stiff,  the  Earl's  head  was  still  as  clear,  his 
heart  as  valiant,  and  his  spirit  as  adventurous,  as  in 
the  days  of  his  youth.  Chroniclers  tell  that  he  was 
anxious,  ere  being  laid  among  his  ancestors  in  the  con- 
vent of  Eccles,  to  make  his  peace  with  God  for  some 
roughness  of  which  he  had  been  guilty  towards  the 
monks  of  Tynemouth.  Perhaps,  also,  he  wished  to 
associate  his  renowned  name  with  the  recovery  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  No  sooner,  at  all  events,  did  he  hear 
of  a  new  crusade,  than  he  determined  to  participate  in 
its  perils  and  glories. 

Earl  Patrick  had  not  to  contend  with  such  difficulties 
as  beset  the  path  of  William  Longsword.     His  sub- 


THE  EARLS  OF  SALISBURY  AND  DUNBAR.        237 

stance  was  immense,  and  his  independence  was  equal 
to  his  substance.  "  I  am  lord  of  mine  own,"  was  the 
language  of  his  grandson ;  "  as  free  to  reign  in  this 
land  of  mine  as  ever  was  prince  or  king."  Nobody  was 
likely  to  interfere  with  the  Earl's  movements  :  so  the 
heir  of  Cospatrick  sold  his  stud  on  the  Leader  Haughs 
to  defray  his  expenses  ;  took  a  last  farewell  of  Euphe- 
mia  Stewart,  his  aged  countess ;  received  the  pilgi'im's 
staff  and  scrip  from  the  abbot  of  Melrose ;  embarked 
with  his  knights  and  kinsmen,  and  fared  forth  to  couch, 
against  the  enemies  of  Christianity,  that  spear  that  had 
so  often  been  dyed  red  in  the  blood  of  the  enemies  of 
civilization. 


238    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CHUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE    KING    AND    THE    CHUONICLER. 

Among  the  barons  whom  Louis  the  Ninth  sum- 
moned to  Paris,  to  renew  their  homage  to  him  and 
swear  loyalty  to  his  cliildren,  was  the  Sieur  de  Join- 
ville,  destined  to  be  laiown  as  chronicler  of  the  crusade. 

Joinville  was  chief  of  a  noble  family  in  Champagne, 
and  appears,  at  this  time,  to  have  been  approaching 
the  age  of  thirty.  Some  years  earlier,  he  had  suc- 
ceeded his  father  as  Seneschal  of  Champagne,  and 
espoused  a  daughter  of  the  Count  de  Grand  Pre.  He 
seems,  however,  to  have  been  a  widower  when  Louis 
assumed  the  cross,  and  in  no  degree  disinclined  to  take 
part  in  an  expedition  to  the  East.  Accordingly,  when 
the  crusade  was  proclaimed  throughout  France,  he 
assumed  the  cross  and  prepared  to  accompany  Louis 
to  Palestine.  He  did  not,  however,  comply  with  the 
King's  request  to  renew  his  fealty.  "  He  summoned 
me  also,"  says  Joinville  ;  but  I  who  was  not  his  subject, 
would  not  take  the  oath.  Besides,  it  was  not  my  in- 
tention to  remain  behind." 

After  making  his  preparations,  and  indulging  in  a 
week  of  feasting  with  his  friends  and  kinsmen,  Joinville 
prepared  to  be  gone.  Ere  setting  out,  he  sent  for  the 
abbot  of  Chcminon ;    and  having  received  from  that 


THE    KINO    AND    THE    CHRONICLER.  239 

holy  man  the  scarf  and  staff,  he  made  pilgrimages  to 
several  places  in  the  vicinity,  barefoot,  and  in  his  shirt. 
His  vow  did  not  admit  of  any  return  to  his  own  castle  ; 
but  the  temptation  would  seem  to  have  been  strong. 
"  As  I  was  journeying  from  Bliecourt  to  St.  Urban," 
he  says,  "  I  was  obliged  to  pass  near  the  castle  of 
Joinvillc.  I  dared  never  turn  my  eyes  in  that  way, 
for  fear  of  feeling  too  great  regret,  and  lest  my  cour- 
age should  fail  on  leaving  my  two  fine  children,  and 
my  fair  castle  of  Joinville,  which  I  loved  in  my  heart." 

Having  joined  company  with  two  of  his  kinsmen, 
the  Seneschal  departed  from  Champagne ;  and  the 
three  brothers-in-arms,  with  their  knights  and  atten- 
dants, embarked  on  the  Soane  for  Lyons  ;  while  their 
war-steeds  and  cavalry  travelled  along  the  banks  of 
the  river.  On  reaching  Lyons,  they  proceeded  in  the 
same  way  by  the  Rhone  to  Aries  le  Blanc,  and  m 
August,  1248,  reached  Marseilles. 

On  arriving  at  Marseilles,  Joinville  and  his  friends 
hired  a  ship  ;  and  embarked  at  that  port  with  their  men 
and  horses.  All  their  courage  was  necessary  to  ena- 
ble them  to  encounter  the  dangers  of  the  sea ;  but  the 
priests  having  chanted  psalms  in  God's  praise,  and  the 
crusaders  sung  the  "  Veni  Creator,"  they  committed 
themselves  to  Providence.  The  skipper  then\)rdered 
the  mariners  to  set  the  sails ;  and  a  breeze  carrying 
them  from  the  shores  of  France,  the  knights  observed, 
with  mysterious  awe,  that  no  other  objects  but  the  sea 
and  the  sky  were  visible. 

After  suffering  much  from  sea-sickness,  Joinville 
landed  at  Cyprus,  and  found  that  King  Louis  had 
reached  that  island.     The  Seneschal's  difficulties  im- 


240         THE    CHUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADERS. 

mediately  commenced.  "  On  my  arrival  at  Cyprus," 
he  says,  "  I  had  but  twelve  score  livres  in  gold  and 
silver,  after  paying  the  freight  of  the  ship,  so  that  many 
of  my  knights  told  me  they  would  leave  me,  if  I  did 
not  better  provide  myself  with  money.  I  was  some- 
what cast  down  in  courage  on  hearing  this,  but  had 
ever  my  confidence  in  God ;  and,  when  the  good  King 
St.  Louis  heard  of  my  distress,  he  sent  for  me,  and 
retained  me  in  his  service,  allowing  me,  like  a  kind 
lord,  eight  hundred  livres  Tournois.  I  instantly  re- 
turned thanks  to  God." 

No  sooner  w^as  Joinville  presented  to  Louis,  than 
an  intimacy  sprung  up  between  them ;  and  the  Senes- 
chal of  Champagne  became  one  of  the  men  whom  the 
King  of  France  delighted  to  honor.  Joinville,  it  is 
true,  had  about  him  little  of  the  courtier,  and  was  not 
quite  so  saintly  in  theory  or  practice  as  Louis  could 
have  wished.  He  had,  however,  the  merit  of  being 
thoroughly  honest,  and  of  resisting  every  temptation 
to  affect  a  degree  of  piety  which  he  did  not  feel. 

"Seneschal,"  said  Louis  one  day  at  Cyprus,  "I 
marvel  that  you  do  not  mix  water  with  your  wine." 

"  Sire,"  said  Joinville,  "■  physicians  have  told  me  that 
as  I  have  a  large  head  and  a  cold  stomach,  the  water 
might  prove  injurious." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Louis,  "  believe  me,  they  have 
deceived  you.  Be  advised  ;  for  if  you  do  not  begin 
to  drink  water  till  you  are  in  the  decline  of  life,  you 
will  increase  any  disorders  you  may  then  have  ; 
and  if  you  take  pure  wine  in  your  old  age,  you 
will  frequently  be  intoxicated  ;  and  verily  it  is  a 
beastly  thing  for  an  honorable  man  to  make  himself 
drunk." 


THE    KING    AND    THE    CHRONICLER.  241 

"  Whether  would  you  be  a  leper,  Seneschal,  or 
have  committed,  or  be  about  to  commit,  a  deadly 
sin  ?  "  asked  the  King  on  another  occasion,  when  two 
friars  were  present. 

"  Rather  than  be  a  leper.  Sire,"  exclaimed  Joinville, 
"  I  would  have  committed  thirty  deadly  sins." 

"  How  could  you  make  such  an  answer  to  my 
question  ?  "  asked  Louis,  upbraidingly,  when  the  friars 
were  gone. 

"  Sire,"  I'ephed  Joinville,  "  were  I  to  answer  again, 
I  should  repeat  the  same  thing." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Louis,  "  you  deceive  yourself  on  the 
subject,  for  you  know  there  can  be  no  leprosy  so 
filthy  as  deadly  sin,  and  the  soul  that  is  guilty  of  such 
is  like  the  devil  in  hell." 

"  And  pray.  Seneschal,"  demanded  Louis  after  a 
pause,  "  do  you  wash  the  feet  of  the  poor  on  Holy 
Thursdays  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Sire,  no !  "  cried  Joinville  ;  "  and  never  will 
I  wash  the  feet  of  such  fellows." 

"  This  is  in  truth,  very  ill  said,"  remarked  Louis, 
shaking  his  head.  "  For  you  should  never  hold  in 
disdain  what  God  did  for  our  instruction.  I  therefore 
beg  that  you  will,  first  out*  of  love  to  Him,  and  then 
from  regard  to  me,  accustom  yourself  to  do  so." 

With  such  conversations  the  winter  passed  over  at 
Cyprus,  Joinville  quaffing  his  wine  without  water,  and 
Louis  expatiating  on  the  perils  of  such  indulgence. 
At  length,  March  arrived ;  and  the  King  embarked 
with  the  Queen  and  their  household.  Joinville,  with 
the  other  crusaders,  prepared  to  tempt  the  seas  once 
more,  but  not  without  a  vague  kind  of  terror.  "  I 
21 


242    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

must  say,"  he  remarks,  "  that  he  is  a  great  fool  who 
puts  himself  in  such  danger,  having  wronged  any  one, 
or  having  any  mortal  sin  on  his  conscience  ;  for,  when 
he  goes  to  sleep  in  the  evening,  he  knows  not  if,  in 
the  morning,  he  may  not  find  himself  under  the 
sea." 


THE    CAPTUllE    OF    DAMIETTA.  243 


CHAPTER    V. 


THE    CAPTURE    OF    DAMIETTA. 

Ox  the  Saturday  before  Pentecost,  eighteen  hundred 
vessels,  comprising  the  fleet  of  St,  Louis,  most  of 
whose  friends  had  ere  this  met  him  at  Cyprus,  issued 
gallantly  from  the  port  of  Limisso,  and  sailed  towards 
Egypt.  "  It  was  a  pleasant  sight  to  see,"  says  Join- 
villc ;  "  for  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  sea,  as  far  as  the 
sight  could  reach,  was  .covered  with  cloth,  from  the 
great  quantity  of  sails  that  were  spread  to  the  wmd." 

The  voyage  of  the  crusaders  did  not,  however, 
prove  prosperous.  At  first,  indeed,  all  was  promising. 
But  suddenly  the  wind  changed,  and  blew  violently 
from  the  coast  of  Egypt.  In  vain  the  Genoese  mari- 
ners exerted  their  skill.  The  fleet  was  completely  dis- 
persed ;  and  when  Louis,  putting  back,  reached  Limisso, 
he  discovered,  with  mortification,  that  scarcely  one 
third  of  the  ships  remained  in  his  company. 

The  king,  who  supposed  the  companions  of  his 
voyage  had  been  drowned,  was  grieved  beyond 
measure.  But  consolation  was  luckily  at  hand.  For- 
tunately, while  Louis  was  bewailing  the  fate  of  his 
friends,  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  and  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy arrived  ;  and  Longsword,  accustomed,  ere  he 
"  had  put  on  his  helmet,"  to  the  narrow  seas,  felt  none 


244    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

of  that  vasiue  dread  of  "  the  blue  above  and  the  blue 
below,"  which  made  the  French  knights  invoke  the 
saints  in  Paradise  when  they  embarked.  The  English 
Earl,  in  fact,  was  just  he  man  for  the  crisis.  He 
could  tell  how  his  own  father,  in  returning  from  the 
Holy  Land,  had  narrowly  escaped  shipwreck,  and 
point  out  that,  in  all  probability,  the  missing  vessels 
were  quite  safe  on  the  Syrian  coast.  Of  course,  his 
hardihood  only  made  him  enemies  ;  and  the  French 
knights,  who  had  been  sinking  under  sea-sickness, 
trembling  for  their  lives,  and  wishing  themselves  back 
in  their  own  castles,  cursed  the  brave  Earl  as  the 
worst  of  "  Enghsh  tails." 

Louis,  however,  became  more  composed ;  and,  the 
morning  of  Monday  being  fine,  he  resolved  to  pursue 
his  voyage.  The  wind  proving  favorable,  the  fleet 
made  for  the  Egyptian  coast,  and  at  sunrise,  on  Thurs- 
day morning,  the  watch  on  deck  shouted  out  "  Land  !  " 
Some  doubt  appears  to  have  been  entertained  ;  but  this 
feeling  was  speedily  dissipated  by  a  pilot,  who  ascended 
to  the  round  top  of  the  vessel  that  led  the  van.  "  Gen- 
tlemen," he  cried,  "we  are  before  Damietta ;  so  we 
have  nothing  to  do  but  recommend  ourselves  to  God." 

A  cry  of  joy  burst  from  a  hundred  lips  ;  the  words 
flew  from  deck  to  deck  ;  and  much  excitement  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  fleet.  Immediately  the  leaders 
of  the  crusade  hastened  on  board  the  King's  vessel. 
"  Gentlemen,"  said  Louis,  as  he  received  them  leaning 
on  his  sword,  "  let  us  be  thankful  that  we  are,  at  length, 
face  to  face  with  the  enemies  of  Christ." 

So  far,  indeed,  as  appearances  went,  the  crusaders 
had  reason  to  believe  that  they  were  on  the  eve  of  a 


THE    CAPTURE    OF    DAMIETTA.  215 

desperate  struggle.  The  mouth  of  the  Nile  was  defended 
by  a  fleet  and  by  formidable  engines  of  war ;  an  innu- 
merable army  of  horsemen  and  footmen  covered  the 
shore,  as  if  bent  on  contesting  every  inch  of  ground. 
At  the  head  of  this  mighty  force,  armed  in  burnished 
gold,  appeared  the  Emir  Fakreddin,  whose  very  name 
was  terrible  to  Christians ;  and  from  the  midst  of  the 
host,  trumpets  and  drums  sounded  a  stern  defiance  to 
the  approaching  foe. 

No  impression  was  produced  by  this  display  on  the 
hearts  of  the  crusaders.  Undaunted  by  the  evidence 
of  great  preparations,  they  steadily  pursued  their  course  ; 
ship  after  ship  moving  calmly  forward,  and  anchoring 
within  a  mile  of  the  shore.  Four  galleys  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Nile,  advanced  to  reconnoitre  the  fleet  ; 
but  three  of  them  having  been  sunk,  the  fourth  carried 
back  intelligence  that  the  crusaders  were  foes  to  be 
dreaded. 

It  was  now  necessary  to  form  some  plan  of  action  ; 
and  a  council  of  war  was  held  on  board  the  King's  ship. 
The  general  wish  was  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  crusa- 
ders from  whom  they  had  been  separated  by  the  tem- 
pest; but  the  drums  and  horns  of  the  Saracens  had 
chafed  the  Saint-king's  pride,  and  he  would  not  hear  of 
delay.  "  We  have  not  come  here,"  he  said,  "  to  listen 
to  the  insults  of  enemies.  Besides,  we  have  no  port  in 
which  to  shelter  from  the  wind.  A  second  tempest  may 
disperse  what  remains  of  our  fleet.  To-day,  God  oflers 
us  a  victory  ;  another  day,  he  may  punish  us  for  having 
neglected  to  conquer."  Nobody  cared  to  debate  the 
point  with  their  King  ;  and  it  was  resolved  that  the  cru- 
saders  should  next  morning  disembark  and    give  the 

21* 


246  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Saracens  battle.  Meanwhile,  strict  watch  was  main- 
tained ;  and  some  swift  vessels  were  despatched  towards 
the  mouth  of  the  Nile,  to  observe  the  motions  of  the 
enemy. 

When  Friday  morning  dawned,  the  Saracens  still  oc- 
cupied the  entire  shore,  presenting  a  front  as  formidable 
as  on  the  previous  day.  Nevertheless,  the  crusaders 
prepared  to  land  ;  and  getting  into  their  barks,  formed 
into  two  lines  and  made  for  the  shore.  Nor  did  Louis, 
at  that  hour,  appear  in  any  respect  unworthy  of  the 
regal  race  of  which  he  was  the  chief.  Preceded  by  the 
oriflamme,  attended  by  his  brothers,  by  his  chosen 
knights,  and  by  the  papal  legate,  the  King,  in  complete 
armor,  with  his  helmet  on  his  brow,  his  shield  on  his 
neck,  and  his  lance  in  his  hand,  figured  conspicuously  on 
the  right  of  his  soldiers.  Each  of  the  barons  and  knights 
stood  erect  in  his  boat,  with  his  horse  by  his  side,  his 
lance  in  his  hand,  and  his  eyes  directed  to  the  shore. 
Cross  bowmen  were  placed  in  front  and  on  the  wings  of 
the  army,  to  annoy  and  gall  the  eager  foe. 

For  a  time,  the  barks  moved  onward  without  oppo- 
sition, and  the  crusaders  drew  near  to  the  Egyptian 
strand.  But  no  sooner  were  they  within  bow -shot  of 
the  shore,  than  a  shower  of  arrows  and  javelins  threw 
them  into  some  slight  disorder.  Instantly,  however, 
the  crossbowmen  retaliated  on  the  foe,  with  a  damaging 
flight  of  shafts ;  and  the  rowers  redoubled  their  efforts 
to  reach  the  shore.  But  by  this  time,  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  crusaders  became  intense  ;  and  the  Sieur  de 
Joinville,  closely  followed  by  Baldwin  de  Rheims, 
reached  the  shore.  Seeing  this,  losing  patience,  and 
hardly  waiting   till  the  oriflamme  was  landed,  Louis 


THE    CAPTURE    OF    DAMIETTA.  247 

sprang  from  his  boat,  and  leaping  into  the  sea,  which 
came  up  to  his  shoulders,  struggled  ashore,  with  a  shout 
of"  Montjoie,  St.  Denis!" 

No  sooner  had  the  Christian  King  set  foot  on  dry- 
land, than  he  kneeled  down  and  returned  thanks  to  God, 
for  having  preserved  him  from  the  perils  of  the  sea. 
On  observing  the  Saracens,  Louis  appears  to  have  be- 
come so  excited,  as  to  propose  making  an  attack  upon 
them  forthwith.  But  the  French  knights  interfered, 
and  persuaded  the  King  to  wait  patiently  till  the  re- 
mainder of  his  army  had  landed. 

It  was  well  indeed  for  Louis,  that  he  allowed  himself 
to  be  prevailed  on,  for,  at  that  moment,  the  Saracen 
cavalry  came  down  on  the  crusaders,  with  an  impetu- 
osity which  convinced  the  French  that  their  foes  were 
somewhat  formidable.  But  the  valor  of  the  Moslems 
met  with  a  signal  check.  Hastily  ordering  the  French 
to  close  their  ranks,  and  cover  themselves  with  then* 
shields,  Joinville  and  Baldwin  of  Rheims  contrived  to 
present  so  impenetrable  a  front,  that  the  Saracens  re- 
tired baffled. 

But  scarcely  had  this  charge  been  repelled,  when  the 
Saracens  made  ready  for  a  second  attack  ;  and  King 
Louis,  forming  his  army  into  order,  prepared  for  re- 
sistance. A  confused  conflict  now  took  place,  and  con- 
tinued till  several  emirs  had  fallen.  Fakreddin  then 
withdrew  his  men  ;  and,  abandoning  his  camp,  retreated 
to  Damietta. 

The  King  of  France,  after  witnessing  the  retreat  of 
the  foe,  ordered  his  pavilion,  which  was  of  bright  red, 
to  be  set  up,  and  caused  the  cler^v  to  sins:  the  Te 
Dcum.      The  French  warriors  then  pitched  their  tents 


248  THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 

around  the  King,  and  passed  the  night  in  rejoicing  over 
their  victory. 

It  soon  appeared,  that  the  crusaders  were  not  aware 
of  the  full  advantages  they  had  gained.  Before  day- 
break, however,  columns  of  flame,  rising  from  Dami- 
etta,  intimated  that  something  remarkable  was  occurring ; 
and,  when  morning  dawned,  Louis  despatched  one  of 
his  knights  to  ascertain  the  cause.  On  reaching  Da- 
mietta,  the  knight  perceived  that  the  gates  were  open ; 
and  entering,  he  found  the  streets  deserted  and  the 
houses  abandoned.  Returning  at  a  gallop  to  the  camp, 
he  announced  to  the  crusaders  that  Damietta  might  be 
won  without  a  blow. 

The  King  of  France  could  hardly  credit  the  report 
brought  by  his  knight,  but  he  gave  orders  for  marching  ; 
and  the  army,  moving  slowly  forward,  without  opposi- 
tion took  possession  of  Damietta.  Having  formed  into 
procession,  the  King,  the  Cardinal,  and  a  crowd  of 
clergy,  walked  to  the  gi-and  mosque,  now  converted  into 
a  Christian  church,  and  sang  psalms  of  praise. 

This  ceremony  over,  the  crusaders  established  them- 
selves in  Damietta.  The  Queen,  the  Countess  of  Ar- 
tois,  and  the  other  ladies,  who,  from  their  ships,  had 
with  breathless  anxiety  watched  the  landing  of  the 
French  warriors,  were  conducted  on  shore,  and  lodged 
in  the  palaces  of  the  city ;  five  hundred  knights  were 
charged  with  the  duty  of  guarding  the  ramparts  and 
towers  ;  the  army  encamped  on  the  plain,  outside  the 
walls  ;  and  Louis  only  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  crusa- 
ders, whom  the  tempest  had  driven  on  the  Syrian  coast, 
and  of  his  brother,  the  Count  of  Poictiers,  with  ihe 
arriere  ban  of  France,  to  undertake  the  great  enter- 
prise of  conquering  Egypt. 


DISCOED   AND   DISOHDER.  249 


CHAPTER  VI. 


DISCOED   AND   DISORDER. 


No  sooner  was  King  Louis  established  at  Damietta, 
than  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  difficulties  and 
discord. 

After  entering  the  city,  the  Saint-king  resolved  that 
no  division  of  the  spoil  should  be  made  ;  but  that  the 
provisions  should  be  kept  in  magazines  under  the  royal 
officers,  and  distributed  gradually  for  the  support  of  the 
army.  This  arrangement,  being  contrary  to  ancient 
custom,  caused  much  discontent ;  and  John  de  Valery, 
a  baron  of  fame  and  influence,  remonstrated  warmly 
with  the  King.  "  Never,  please  God,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  will  I  consent  to  alter  good  customs,  and  such  as  our 
ancestors  have  followed  in  the  Holy  Land.  Whenever 
any  city  or  other  considerable  booty  was  taken  from  the 
enemy,  the  King  never  received  more  than  one  third  of 
the  riches  or  goods  ;  while  the  pilgrims  received  two 
thirds."  Louis,  however,  who  wished  to  avoid  the  in- 
conveniences that  had  resulted  from  the  system  of  which 
John  de  Valery  was  the  eulogist,  remained  firm  ;  and 
the  French  barons  found  some  difficulty  in  digesting 
their  discontent. 

Disputes  of  a  more  serious  kind  ere  long  took  place. 


250  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

At  that  time,  there  existed  no  great  love  between  the 
French  and  English  nobles  ;  and  the  warriors  of  the 
continent  were  m  the  habit  of  treating  the  warriors  of 
the  island  with  undisguised  contempt.  In  fact,  the 
French  had  some  reason  to  assume  airs  of  superiority  ; 
for,  during  fifty  years,  they  had  been  victorious  in  al- 
most every  struggle.  On  that  point  there  could  be  no 
dispute.  Philip  Augustus  had  expelled  King  John  from 
the  continent ;  and  Louis  had  chased  King  Henry  from 
the  bridge  of  Taillebourg  to  the  gates  of  Bordeaux. 
Moreover,  while  France  enjoyed  some  measure  of  ec- 
clesiastical freedom,  the  Pope  treated  England  as  a 
conquered  country,  and  talked  contemptuously  of  the 
Kins  as  his  vassal.  Such  beins  the  case,  the  French 
were  constantly  vaporing  about  their  prowess  ;  and  the 
wretched  joke  about  Englishmen  being  born  with  tails, 
as  a  punishment  for  the  murder  of  Thomas  a  Becket, 
was  brought  forward  in  season  and  out  of  season. 

It  must  be  stated  that  the  English,  to  their  credit, 
bore  the  taunts  of  their  continental  rivals  with  a  degree 
of  patience  which  has  not  always  characterized  their 
nation.  Even  in  their  humiliation,  however,  the  island 
warriors  could  not  have  relished  the  disparaging  remarks 
of  which  they  were  the  objects.  It  is  true  that  for- 
bearance would  have  cost  them  little,  could  they  have 
foreseen  at  how  early  a  date  the  tables  were  to  be 
turned.  A  great  change,  in  fact,  was  at  hand  ;  and  the 
Plantagenet  prince  had  already  seen  the  light,  who  was 
to  make  popes,  and  princes,  and  peoples  bow  with  awe 
before  the  name  of  Enmand. 

For  some  time,  during  the  stay  of  the  crusaders  at 
Damictta,  the  English  prudently  refrained  from  resent- 


DISCORD    AND    DISORDER.  251 

ing  the  insults  of  their  allies.  But,  at  the  same  time, 
they  do  not  ap[)car  to  have  complied  very  readily  with 
the  regulations  for  the  government  of  the  camp  ;  and 
the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  in  some  way,  provoked  the  ma- 
lignity of  the  Count  of  Artois.  This,  of  course,  led  to 
such  quarrels  as  none  of  the  crusaders  had  skill  suffi- 
cient to  prevent.  The  Earl  of  Dunbar,  indeed,  with 
his  sagacity  and  experience,  might  have  acted  success- 
fully as  mediator  ;  but  it  would  seem,  that  the  old  Scoto- 
Saxon  warrior  was  among  those  who  perished  early  in 
the  expedition.* 

While  the  Couot  of  Artois  and  the  Earl  of  Salisbury 
were  on  unfriendly  terms,  Longsword,  growing  weary 
of  inactivity,  and  eager  for  change  of  scene,  donned  his 
chain  mail,  put  on  his  surcoat,  mounted  his  Flemish 
charger,  and,  at  the  head  of  his  knights,  dashed  out  of 
Damietta  in  quest  of  adventure.  The  novelty  of  every- 
thing around  naturally  raised  the  spirits  of  the  English 
crusaders ;  and,  panting  for  action,  but  not  meeting 
with  any  enemy  to  oppose  their  progress,  they  laid  siege 
to  a  castle  before  which  they  accidentally  arrived.  Af- 
ter a  bold  effort,  Salisbury  seized  the  place,  and  finding 
it  occupied  by  "  the  wives  of  some  noble  Saracens," 
gave  the  alarmed  ladies  to  understand  that  they  were 

*  '*  Earl  Patrick  also  died,  who  was  hold  to  be  the  most  pow- 
erful among  the  nobles  of  Scotland.  This  noble  died  bearing 
the  symbol  of  the  cross,  while  on  a  pilgrimage  in  company  with 
the  French  King;  and  he  is  believed  to  have  assumed  the  cross 
that  he  might  become  reconciled  to  God  and  St.  Oswin ;  for  he 
had  harassed  and  unjustly  injured  the  church  of  Tynemouth, 
a  convent  devoted  to  St.  Alban,  and  the  especial  domicile  of 
the  blessed  king  and  martyr  Oswin." — Matthew  Paris^s 
Chronicle. 


252     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

captives  of  his  sword  and  spear,  and  brought  them  off 
to  Damietta. 

But  the  adventures  of  the  EngUsh  Earl  were  not 
ended.  While  conducting  the  Oriental  beauties  in  tri- 
upmh,  Longsword  fell  in  with  a  caravan  on  hs  way  to 
Alexandria.  Of  course,  no  scruple  about  spoiling  the 
infidel  ever  touched  Longsword's  conscience  ;  so,  put- 
ting the  escort  to  the  rout,  he  took  possession  of  the 
caravan  ;  and,  congratulating  himself  on  having  obtained 
so  noble  a  prize,  continued  his  march  to  the  crusaders' 
camp. 

When  Salisbury,  on  his  strong  charger,  came  riding 
at  the  head  of  his  knights  to  Damietta,  with  Saracen  la- 
dies, and  wagons  drawn  by  oxen  and  buffaloes,  and 
camels,  mules,  and  asses  laden  with  gold  and  silver,  and 
silks  and  paintings,  much  envy  was  excited.  Perhaps 
the  English  did  not  bear  their  good  fortune  quite 
meekly.  In  any  case,  the  French  gradually  became 
exasperated  ;  and,  after  some  high  words  had  passed, 
they  carried  off  part  of  Longsword's  booty  by  force. 

On  learning  what  had  occurred,  and  deeming  that  he 
had  been  both  insulted  and  injured,  Salisbury  hastened 
to  the  royal  pavilion.  Louis  was  then  holding  a  coun- 
cil ;  and  the  English  Earl  entering,  presented  himself  to 
the  most  Christian  King. 

"  Sir  King,"  said  Longsword,  bluntly,  "  I  took  the 
cross,  and  came  from  a  distant  country  to  aid  you  in 
the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  I  and  my  coun- 
trymen have  fought  as  faithfully  for  God's  cause  as  any 
man  in  your  army.  Nevertheless,  we  have  been  ex- 
posed to  intolerable  insults  and  injuries.  I  come  here 
to  lay  before  you  my  complaint  against  your  brother, 


DISCORD    AND    DISORDER.  253 

the  Count  of  Artois,  who  is  the  head  and  chief  offender  ; 
and  I  promise,  that  if  I  am  in  the  wrong,  I  will  give 
every  satisfaction  for  my  fault." 

"  William  Longsword,"  said  Louis,  gravely,  "  the 
Lord,  who  is  ignorant  of  nothing,  is  aware  of  the  inju- 
ries you  have  sustained.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  You 
know  how  serious  an  affair  it  would  be  for  me  to  offend 
any  of  my  nobles  in  the  position  in  which  I  now  am." 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  Lord  King!"  asked  the 
Count  of  Artois,  who  at  that  moment  entered  abruptly, 
flushed  and  excited.  "  Do  you  defend  this  English- 
man and  oppose  your  own  Frenchmen  ?" 

"  Now,  Longsword,"  said  Louis,  turning  his  face  to 
the  English  Earl,  "  you  hear  how  easily  a  quarrel 
might  originate  ;  and  God  forbid  that  it  should  occur  in 
this  army.  It  is  necessary,  at  such  a  crisis,  to  endure 
such  things,  and  even  worse  things  than  these,  with 
equanimity." 

"  Then,  Sir,"  exclaimed  Longsword,  giving  way  to 
indignation,  "  call  yourself  no  longer  King,  since  you 
have  no  longer  the  power  to  administer  justice  or  to 
punish  offenders." 

"  Frenchmen  !  what  madness  excites  vou  ?  Why  do 
you  persecute  this  man  .?"  asked  Louis  reproachfully. 

"  I  do  it,"  cried  the  Count  of  Ar'.ois,  "  because  I  be- 
lieve the  French  army  would  be  well  purged  of  these 
tailed  English  !  " 

But  the  Count's  words  were  echoed  by  none  of  the 
King's  councillors.  All  men  of  judgment  and  expe- 
rience shook  their  heads,  and  intimated,  in  a  manner 
not  to  be  mistaken,  their  disapproval  of  what  he  had 
said. 

22 


254  THE    CfiUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEES. 

"  This  is  a  serious  matter,"  they  observed,  not  even 
deigning  to  answer  the  fool  according  to  liis  folly.  "  It 
is  a  sad  presage  of  future  events  ;  and  well  will  it  be  if 
the  heavy  anger  of  the  Most  High  is  not  provoked  by 
such  offence." 

The  quarrel  between  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  and  the 
Count  of  Artois,  was  not  the  only  unfortunate  circum- 
stance connected  with  the  stay  of  the  French  at  Dami- 
etta.  In  fact,  the  utmost  disorder  prevailed  in  the  camp- 
Quarrels  and  brawls  occurred  daily  and  hourly.  The 
crusaders,  left  to  inactivity,  appeared  to  forget  the  sol- 
emn oaths  they  had  taken,  and  spent  their  time  in  not 
and  debauchery.  A  spirit  of  gambling  and  wantonness 
took  possession  of  the  army  encamped  under  the  stand- 
ard of  Christ.  The  rattle  of  the  dice-box  was  constantly 
heard  throughout  the  camp.  Men  with  the  cross  of 
Christ  on  their  shoulder,  had  the  name  of  the  devil  per- 
petually on  their  tongues ;  and  women,  lost  to  womanly 
feeling,  plied  the  most  iniquitous  of  all  trades  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  Saint-kuig's  pavilion. 


THE   Eillll    TAKKEJDDIN.  255 


CHAPTER    VIL 


THE    EMIR    FAKKEDDIX. 


The  flight  of  the  Emir  Fakreddin  from  Damietta, 
and  the  occupation  of  that  city  by  the  crusaders,  threw 
the  empire  of  the  Sultan  into  convulsions. 

At  the  time  when  the  crusaders  landed  at  Da- 
mietta,  Melikul-Salih  had  the  misfortune  to  be  under 
the  influence  of  a  malady,  which  physicians  pro- 
nounced incurable  ;  and  he  was,  of  course,  precluded 
from  any  active  part  in  the  steps  taken  to  defend  his 
dominions.  When,  however,  pigeons  conveyed  to 
Cairo  intelligence  of  the  French  King's  success  and 
Fakreddin's  flight,  the  Sultan  roused  himself  to 
energy.  Breaking  into  a  violent  rage,  he  instantly 
sentenced  about  fifty  of  the  principal  fugitives  to  be 
executed,  and  would  listen  to  none  of  the  excuses 
made  for  their  flight.  "  You  deserve  death  for  having 
quitted  Damietta  without  my  orders,"  was  his  answer 
to  every  attempt  they  made  to  justify  themselves.  One 
man  who  had  been  condemned  to  die  with  a  son  whom 
he  dearly  loved,  entreated  that,  at  least,  he  should  bo 
allowed  to  sufler  first.  But  the  Sultan  was  inexorable  : 
and  the  father  had  to  endure  the  misery  of  seeing  his 
son  executed  before  his  eyes. 

While  Melikul-Salih  was  in   this  sanguinary  mood, 


256  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Fakreddin    was    summoned    to    his    presence,  and  re- 
ceived with  ominous  anger. 

"  What  resistance  have  you  inade,  and  what  battles 
have  you  fought  ?  "  asked  the  Suhan  in  a  rage. 

"  I  have  both  made  resistance  and  fought  battles," 
answered  Fakreddin  calmly. 

"  These  French,"  said  the  Sultan,  "  must  indeed  be 
something  very  terrible,  since  men  like  you  could  not 
support  their  presence  for  one  day." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  the  emirs 
present  trembling  for  Fakreddin's  safety,  intimated  by 
a  gesture  their  readiness  to  save  him  by  killing  the 
Sultan.  But  Fakreddin  shook  his  head,  "  The  Sul- 
tan," he  whispered,  "  cannot  live  many  days  ;  and, 
if  he  gives  trouble,  we  can  at  any  time  get  rid  of 
him." 

Without  driving  matters  to  cxtremitv,  Mellkul-Salih 
caused  himself  to  be  removed  to  JNIansourah ;  and, 
on  reaching  that  city,  expended  his  last  strength  in 
rallying  the  troops  and  strengthening  the  fortifica- 
tions. At  the  same  time,  he  sent  soldiers  to  attack 
the  crusaders  in  their  camp,  and  promised  a  golden 
bezant  for  the  head  of  every  Christian  brought  to  his 
dying  couch.  The  Arab  cavalry  of  the  desert,  and 
some  Karismian  horsemen,  saved  from  the  ruin  of  the 
army  that  sacked  Jerusalem,  were  employed  on  this 
service  ;  and  exerted  so  much  ingenuity  in  their  ap- 
proaches, that  sentinel  after  sentinel  disappeared  from 
liis  post,  and  knight  after  knight  was  killed  while 
asleep  in  his  tent. 

At  length  Malikul-Salih  breathed  his  last  at  Man- 
sourah  ;    and   as   Touran-Chah,  son  of  the  departed 


THE    EMIR    FAKREDDIN.  257 

Sultan,  was  then  in  Mesopotamia,  the  emirs  became 
apprehensive  of  the  most  serious  troubles.  But  the 
favorite  Sultana,  a  woman  of  great  ability,  suggested 
the  policy  of  concealing  her  husband's  death  till  his 
successor  should  arrive  j  and  this  counsel  being  acted 
on,  prevented  any  serious  consequences.  Orders  were 
still  issued  in  the  Sultan's  name ;  prayers  for  his 
recovery  were  offered  up  in  the  churches ;  and  Mame- 
lukes occupied  their  usual  post  at  the  palace  gates,  as 
if  guarding  his  hfe. 

But  notwithstanding  such  precautions,  suspicions 
were  aroused,  and  the  truth  ere  long  began  to  ooze 
out.  This  was  of  itself  sufficient  to  create  conster- 
nation ;  and  soon  another  circumstance  added  to  the 
panic.  Rumors,  carried  to  Mansourah,  that  the  French, 
having  left  Damietta,  were  marching  up  the  banks  of 
the  Nile,  caused  every  check  to  grow  pale  •,  and,  on 
being  conveyed  to  Cairo,  excited  such  terror  and  dis- 
may as  had  seldom  before  been  exhibited  in  the  capital 
of  Egypt. 

At  this  crisis,  Fakreddln  showed  a  courage  worthy 
of  the  fame  he  had  won  by  his  military  exploits,  and 
called  upon  the  Saracens  to  sacrifice  their  lives  and 
fortunes  for  the  sake  of  their  rehgion  and  their 
country.  "  In  the  name  of  God,  and  Mahomet,  his 
prophet,"  said  the  Emir,  "  hasten,  great  and  small,  for 
the  cause  of  God  has  need  of  your  arms  and  your 
wealth  ;  "  and  his  proclamation  was  read  daily  at  the 
hour  of  prayer  in  the  grand  mosque  at  Cairo.  But  the 
people  of  the  capital  only  answered  with  sighs  and 
groans.  A  few  of  the  more  courageous,  indeed,  left 
•for  Mansourah  to  fight ;  but  the  majority  only  thought 
22* 


258         THE    CRUSADES   AND    THE    CRTTSADEES. 

of  flying   farther    from   enemies    against   whom   they 
despaired  of  defending  themselves. 

But  Fakreddin  was  not  dismayed.  Marching  out 
of  Mansourah,  he  encamped  at  Djedile,  on  the  shore 
of  the  canal  of  Achmoum,  with  the  Nile  on  his  left 
and  the  city  in  his  rear.  Here  the  Emir  awaited  the 
foe.  "  Be  brave  :  we  will  yet  avenge  the  glory  of 
Islamism,"  he  said,  addressing  his  troops ;  "  and  on 
Sebastian's  day  I  will  dine  in  the  red  tent  of  the 
French  King." 


THE    MAKCII    TO    MANSOUKAH.  259 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE    MARCH    TO    MANSOURAH. 

While  Melikul-Salih,  Sultan  of  Egypt,  was  exert- 
ing his  last  energy  to  save  the  empire  of  the  Ayoubites 
from  the  Franks,  arrival  after  arrival  swelled  the 
army  that  lay  encamped  around  the  oriflammo  on  the 
plains  of  Damietta.  Thither,  recovered  from  their 
fright,  gathered  the  crusaders  whose  ships  the  storm 
had  driven  on  the  Syrian  coast ;  thither  came  the 
Count  of  Poictiers,  with  the  arriere  ban  of  the  French 
army ;  and  thither,  under  their  grand  masters,  to  take 
part  in  the  holy  enterprise,  hurried  the  Templars  and 
Hospitallers,  whose  discipline  and  knowledge  of  East- 
ern warfare  rendered  their  presence  of  the  utmost 
importance.  With  such  allies,  and  an  army  of  sixty 
thousand  men,  twenty  thousand  of  whom  were  cavalry, 
the  Saint-king  might  well  flatter  himself  with  the  hope 
of  accomplishing  something  great. 

When  affairs  reached  this  stage,  Louis  resolved  on 
leaving  Damietta  ;  and  a  council  of  princes  and  peers 
was  held  to  deliberate  on  the  measures  most  likely  to 
complete  the  conquest  of  Egypt.  The  more  prudent 
recommended  the  King  to  attack  Alexandria;  but 
several,  who  were  young  and  fiery,  insisted  on  pro- 


2G0     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

ceedinjT  to  Cairo.  Foremost  among  those  eager  to 
march  to  the  Egyptian  capital,  was  the  Count  of 
Artois.  "  If,"  said  he,  "  you  wish  to  kill  a  serpent, 
you  ought  to  hcgin  by  crushing  its  head." 

After  a  warm  discussion,  Louis  declared  in  favor  of 
the  bolder  project ;  and  orders  were  given  for  march- 
ing to  Cairo.  Leaving  Queen  Margaret,  with  the 
Countesses  of  Artois  and  Poictiers,  at  Damietta,  under 
the  protection  of  a  strong  garrison,  the  crusaders 
moved,  iji  feudal  array,  along  the  banks  of  the  Nile  ; 
while  a  fleet,  with  provisions  and  engines  of  war  ascen- 
ded the  river. 

For  a  time  the  armed  pilgrims  marched  on  without 
any  foe  worthy  of  their  steel  appearing.  Five  hundred 
horsemen,  however,  hung  about,  and  caused  some  sur- 
prise by  stating  that  they  had  come  to  aid  the  crusaders 
in  their  progress.  Seeing  that  they  seemed  pacific, 
and  that  their  number  was  too  small  to  inspire  dread, 
the  King  commanded  his  soldiers  not  to  molest  them. 
But  it  soon  appeared  that  they  were  not  bent  on  so 
amicable  a  mission  as  they  pretended.  No  sooner, 
indeed,  was  a  favorable  opportunity  presented,  than 
they  fell  on  the  Templars,  and  one  knight  of  the  order, 
struck  with  a  battle-axe,  ere  he  was  aware  of  his 
danger,  fell  dead  from  his  horse. 

"  Down  with  the  Pagan  dogs  !  "  cried  twenty  voices, 
as  the  body  of  the  knight  rolled  at  the  feet  of  the  mar- 
shal of  the  order. 

"  Yes,  companions,"  shouted  the  marshal,  "  at- 
tack them  in  the  name  of  God  ^  for  I  cannot  suffer 
thus." 

As   the    marshal    spoke,  the    Templars    put    their 


THE    MARCH    TO    MANSOUR^H.  2G1 

horses  in  motion,  and  charged  the  Saracens.  At  the 
same  time  a  cry  to  arms  rung  through  the  crusaders' 
ranks  ;  and  hundreds,  spurring  forward,  surrounded 
the  Moslem  warriors  on  all  sides.  No  chance  of 
escape  remained  for  them  ;  and  such  as  did  not  fall 
by  the  weapons  of  their  foes,  perished  in  the  waters  of 
the  Nile. 

After  this  adventure,  the  crusaders  continued 
their  march,  and  soon  approached  the  town  of  Man- 
sourah.  At  this  point,  however,  their  progress  was 
interrupted  by  two  obstacles.  One  was  the  canal 
known  as  the  Achmoum,  with  a  deep  bed  and 
steep  banks;  the  other  was  the  Saracen  army, 
which,  under  Fakreddin,  appeared  encamped  on 
the  opposite  bank. 

"  Sire,"  said  a  knight  to  the  King,  "  I  have  learned 
that  the  Emir  boasts  of  his  intention  to  dine  in  your 
tent  on  Sebastian's  day." 

"  Does  he  ?  "  said  Louis  on  hearing  this.  "  How- 
ever, 1  will  take  good  care  to  prevent  him." 

The  obstacle  presented  by  the  canal  of  Achmoum 
appeared  insuperable,  for  the  time  being,  to  the  cru- 
saders. Indeed,  they  were  so  impressed  with  the 
depth  of  its  bed  and  the  steepness  of  its  banks,  that 
they  neglected  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  no 
ford  bv  which  it  could  be  crossed.  Instead  of  looking 
for  a  ford,  they  commenced  the  construction  of  a 
causeway  ;  and  this  led  to  serious  consequences.  The 
Saracens,  in  fact,  at  once  perceived  their  advantage  ; 
and  while  many  men,  protected  by  machines  and 
wooden  castles,  were  occupied  with  the  work,  the 
Saracens   exercised   their  utmost  ingenuity  to    retard 


262    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CEUSADEES, 

their  progress.  It  soon  appeared  that  Fakreddin, 
though  he  had  retreated  from  Damietta,  was  by 
no  means  inchned  to  acknowledge  the  superiority  of 
the  Franks  without  a  struggle.  Every  day  brought 
fresh  annoyances,  and  every  night  new  troubles. 
After  the  Saracens  had  once  ventured  to  attack  the 
camp,  and  found  the  Franks  not  quite  invincible,  their 
audacity  became  greater  ;  and  in  the  conflicts  that  took 
place  day  by  day,  the  crusaders  had  not  always  the 
advantage. 

Notwithstanding  their  gallant  bravery,  the  French 
knights  found  that  they  were  encountering  no  con- 
temptible foes.  Every  day  the  Saracens  showed  a 
fiercer  determination  to  prevent  the  completion  of 
the  causeway  ;  and  they  exerted  themselves  to  the 
utmost  of  their  power,  to  produce  consternation 
among  the  crusaders  by  discharging  Greek  fire.  The 
horrors  endured  during  one  night  have  been  de- 
scribed by  Joinville.  On  that  occasion  the  Saracens 
brought  a  terrible  engine,  and  placed  it  opposite 
the  machines  guarded  by  the  lordly  chronicler  and 
a  knight  named  Sir  Walter  Curel.  The  engine 
vomited  forth  huge  bodies  of  flame,  which  drew  after 
it  a  tail,  that  looked  in  the  darkness,  like  a  fiery  ser- 
pent. Nothing  could  have  exceeded  the  surprise 
and  horror  of  the  crusaders  at  this  mode  of  attack. 
Every  man  gave  way  to  bewilderment,  and  called 
on  his  neighbors  for  aid  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the 
consternation  around  him.  Sir  Walter  Curel  retained 
his  presence  of  mind.  "  Gentlemen,"  cried  the  brave 
knight,  "  we  appear  to  be  lost  ;  for  if  they  set  fire 
to    our    chas-chateils,    we     shall     be    burned ;     and, 


THE   MARCH    TO    MANSOUEAH.  263 

if  we  quit  our  posts,  we  are  dishonored.  God 
alone  can  save  us  from  this  peril.  Wherefore  I 
advise  every  one,  whenever  this  fire  is  thrown,  to 
cast  himself  on  his  knees  and  call  upon  the  name  of 
the  Lord." 

The  advice  of  Sir  Walter  appeared  much  too  good 
to  be  neglected  ;  and  his  wisdom  was  generally  ac- 
knowledged. Seven  times  during  the  night,  the 
engine  sent  forth  its  shower  of  fire  ;  and,  each  time, 
the  crusaders  threw  themselves  on  their  knees,  the 
King  setting  the  example  of  prostrating  himself  on  the 
ground,  and  cryhig  aloud,  "  Good  Lord,  preserve  me 
and  my  people  !  " 

Hours  passed  over,  without  the  Greek  fire  doing 
serious  mischief;  but,  at  length,  one  of  the  bodies 
of  flame  fell  beside  the  chas-chateil  guarded  by  Lord 
de  Courtenay,  struck  a  bank  in  front  of  his  position, 
and  ran  along  the  ground  towards  his  men.  This 
circumstance  created  a  fearful  panic.  "  Help,  my 
lord,  we  are  burnt,"  cried  one  of  Courtenay's 
knights,  rushing  towards  Joinville  ;  "  there  is  a 
long  train  of  fire  running  straight  for  our  castle." 
Joinville  instantly  hastened  to  render  assistance ; 
and  the  fire  was  extinguished.  But  this  operation 
was  not  performed  without  danger ;  for,  from  the 
opposite  bank,  arrows  and  darts  coming  in  showers, 
rattled  against  steel  cap  and  chain  mail. 

While  such  scenes  were  enacted,  Fakreddin  was 
not  idle.  From  the  first,  he  had  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity of  ascertaining  the  position  and  prospects  of 
the  crusaders.  As  intelligence  on  such  subjects  could 
only  be  obtained   from   captives,  the   Emir  offered  a 


2G4    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CUUSADERS. 

handsome  reward  for  every  Frank  brought  to  his 
tent  j  and  this  led  a  Saracen  soldier  to  perform  an 
exploit  so  extraordinary  as  to  have  been  carefully 
recorded  by  Arabian  chroniclers,  who  omitted  far 
more  important  events. 

It  appears  that  the  Saracen  soldier  determined 
to  take  a  Christian  prisoner  to  the  Emir's  tent, 
and  fell  upon  a  most  whimsical  plan  for  accom- 
plishing his  purpose.  Having  scooped  out  a  melon, 
and  thrust  his  head  into  the  cavity,  he  threw  himself 
into  the  stream,  and  swam  down  in  such  a  way 
that  the  melon  seemed  to  float  on  the  water.  The 
trick  proved  successful  ;  for  one  of  the  crusaders, 
yielding  to  temptation  and  eager  to  gratify  his 
appetite,  rushed  into  the  canal  and  grasped  at  the 
melon.  Scarcely,  however,  had  the  Frank  stretched 
out  his  hand,  when  he  found  himself  seized  by  the 
Saracen,  and  dragged  forcibly  away  to  the  Emir's 
tent. 

Meanwhile,  the  crusaders  had  been  more  than  a 
month  engaged  in  the  attempt  to  construct  a  cause- 
way, and  were  quite  as  far  from  accomplishing  their 
object  as  during  the  first  week.  Suddenly  they  be- 
came aware  that  the  passage  of  the  Achmoum  might 
be  effected  by  means  much  simpler.  One  day  a 
Bedouin  presented  himself  to  the  Constable  of  France, 
and  engaged,  for  five  hundred  golden  bezants,  to  point 
out  a  ford  by  which  the  crusaders  might  safely  reach 
the  opposite  bank.  The  Constable  immediately  made 
inquiries,  and,  having  ascertained  that  the  Bedouin  was 
not  deceiving  him,  paid  the  sum  demanded.  One 
night,  in  the  month  of  February,  the  crusaders,  having 


THE    MARCH    TO    MANSOUHAIT.  2G5 

left  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  to  guard  their  camp, 
marched  along  the  bank  of  the  canal,  and  awaited  the 
break  of  day  to  plunge  through  the  water,  and  advance 
on  Mansourah. 


23 


2G6       THE  cnusADES  and  the  chusadeks. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


BIBAHS  BENDOCDAE. 


At  the  time  when  the  march  of  the  French  army 
towards  Mansourah  startled  the  inhabitants  of  that  city 
out  of  their  propriety,  and  caused  dismay  within  the 
walls  of  Cairo,  there  was  one  Moslem  warrior  who  did 
not  share  in  the  general  alarm.  Far  from  shrinking 
from  the  peril,  this  individual  recognized  with  satisfac- 
tion the  danger  and  disorder,  from  the  bosom  of  which 
a  daring  leader  might  raise  himself  to  power  by  re- 
kindling courage  and  restoring  disciphne.  He  was 
chief  of  the  Mamelukes,  known  as  Bibars  Bendocdar, 
and  destined  to  associate  his  name  with  great  crimes 
and  memorable  exploits. 

At  that  time,  it  was  the  custom  of  the  East,  when 
two  kings  went  to  war,  to  sell  the  subjects  of  the  van- 
quished prince  as  slaves.  Bought  by  merchants,  these 
slaves  were  conveyed  by  sea  to  Egypt  ;  and  their 
children  purchased  by  the  Sultan,  were  trained  from 
boyhood  in  his  service.  Whenever  their  beards  began 
to  grow,  they  were  taught  to  wield  the  sword  and  to 
draw  the  bow ;  and  in  due  time  enrolled  in  that  fa- 
mous military  body  which  Saladin  had  instituted. 

Bibars  Bendocdar  had  originally  been  brought  to 
Egypt   as   a  slave,  and   admitted  into  the  Mameluke 


BIBAES    BENDOCDAR.  267 

force.  His  ambition  being  intense,  and  his  talent 
quite  equal  to  his  ambition,  he  rose  rapidly.  Indeed, 
he  was  one  of  those  men  who  deem  themselves  born 
to  rule,  and  who,  even  when  slaves,  dream  of  the  day 
that  is  to  dawn  on  them  as  tyrants.  He  was  quite  de- 
termined to  find  a  way  to  power  ;  and,  as  to  the  means, 
lie  was  in  no  respect  scrupulous. 

Ere  lonn;,  Bibars  Bendocdar  found  that  circumstan- 
ces  favored  his  aspirations.  No  position  was  more 
likely  to  lead  from  obscurity  to  fame,  than  that  which 
he  occupied.  The  Mamelukes  were  always  in  favor 
with  the  Sultan  ;  they  wore  his  emblazonments  of  pure 
gold,  only  adding  bars  of  vermilion,  with  birds  or  roses, 
or  griffins,  for  difierence ;  they  watched  over  his  safety 
during  peace,  and,  in  time  of  war,  they  acted  as  his 
body-guard.  No  subjects  had  such  favorable  opportu- 
nities of  cultivating  his  favor. 

It  happened  that  on  one  occasion,  when  Meliliul-Salih 
was  besieging  a  town,  and  his  army  fled  before  the  foe, 
the  Baharite  slaves  maintained  their  position,  and  al- 
lowed him  time  to  escape.  Elevated  to  the  Egyptian 
throne,  Melikul  Salih,  remembering  this  valuable  ser- 
vice, gave  them  his  whole  confidence,  formed  them 
into  a  troop  known  as  the  Mamelukes-Baharites,  loaded 
them  with  giits,  and  raised  them  to  the  highest  digni- 
ties. At  the  time  when  Louis  landed  at  Damietta,  this 
force  was  composed  of  eight  hundred  men ;  and  of 
these  none  stood  higher  in  the  Sultan's  favor  than 
Bibars  Bendocdar. 

But  it  was  not  merely  the  confidence  of  the  Sultan 
(hat  Bibars  Bendocdar  enjoyed.  Having  occupied 
himself  with  military  afiairs,  he  had  learned  the  arts 


268  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

by  which  warriors  of  adventurous  spirit  elevate  them- 
selves to  supremacy.  Besides,  he  had  other  qualities, 
that  rendered  him  a  dangerous  foe  —  sagacity,  penetra- 
tion, cruelty,  incredible  activity,  skill  in  war,  courage 
in  conflict,  devotion  to  the  cause  for  which  he  had  so 
often  fought. 

For  the  rest,  Bibars  Bendocdar  professed  great  faith 
in  Mahomet's  religion,  and  had  great  faith,  also,  in  his 
own  genius  and  destiny.  Perhaps,  now  and  then,  his 
imagination,  with  prophetic  instinct,  conjured  up  the 
vision  of  a  tall  warrior  with  light  hair  mounted  on  a 
gray  steed  and  crossing  his  path  like  a  shadow.  But 
if  so,  he  would  also  feel  that  the  danger  was  distant. 
The  gray  steed  had  not  yet  been  foaled  ;  and  the  tall 
rider  was  still  a  boy  of  twelve,  playing  at  ball  with  his 
little  brother  in  the  court-yard  at  Westminster,  or 
spurring  his  pony  in  mimic  tilt,  against  the  wooden 
likeness  of  a  Saracen  on  the  green  sward  at  Eltham. 


THE    BATTLE    OP    MANSOUJiAH.  209 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOUHAH. 

At  daybreak,  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  the  8th 
of  February,  1249,  the  crusaders,  assembled  on  the 
bank  of  the  Achmoum,  awaited  a  signal  from  the 
King  of  France,  to  attempt  a  passage.  It  was  at 
this  moment,  so  important  to  Louis,  to  France,  and  to 
the  Christians  in  the  East,  that  the  Saint-king's  brother 
was  guilty  of  a  piece  of  presumption,  that  was  destined 
to  lead  to  the  ruin  of  the  Christian  army. 

At  all  times,  it  would  seem,  the  Count  of  Artois 
was  an  unreasonable  being ;  and,  on  this  occEision, 
nothing  could  satisfy  the  regal  warrior,  but  the  privi- 
lege of  being  first  to  cross.  Aware  of  the  danger  of 
indiscretion  at  such  a  moment,  Louis  attempted  to  re- 
strain his  brother's  impetuosity  ;  but  the  Count,  prom- 
ising patiently  to  await  the  main  army,  placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  van,  which  was  composed  of  Tem- 
plars, Hospitallers,  and  English  crusaders  ;  and  dashing 
through  the  canal,  dispersed  some  hundred  horsemen, 
who  appeared  to  oppose  his  progress,  pursued  them, 
in  spite  of  remonstrances  from  the  Grand  Masters  of 
the  Temple  and  the  Hospital,  towards  Djedile,  and, 
entering  the  camp,  created  a  panic  among  the  Saracen 
warriors. 

23* 


270  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

When  the  camp  of  Djedile  was  thus  mvaded, 
Fakrcddin  was  in  his  bath,  and  having  his  beard 
colored.  Surprised  while  in  this  situation  with  the 
tumult,  and  with  intelligence  that  the  Franks  were 
upon  him,  the  Emir  rushed  out  scantily  clad,  and 
sprang  on  horseback  to  rally  his  men.  Inspired  by 
his  example,  the  Saracens  made  a  brief  attempt  at 
resistance.  Finding  their  efforts  vain,  however,  they 
left  their  chief  to  his  fate,  and  rushed  in  a  body  to- 
wards Mansourah.  Disdaining  to  fly  or  yield,  fighting 
bravely,  and  covered  with  wounds,  Fakreddin  fell  in 
the  midst  of  his  foes ;  and  the  Saracens,  regarding  him 
as  a  martyr  for  Islamism,  said  that  the  Franks  had  sent 
him  to  the  banks  of  the  celestial  river,  and  that  his  end 
was  glorious. 

The  crusaders,  under  the  King,  had  not  succeeded 
in  crossing  the  canal  of  Achmoum,  when  the  Count 
of  Artois,  the  two  Grand  Masters,  and  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  stood  victors  in  the  camp  of  Djedile.  But, 
elate  with  success,  and  forgetting  that  discretion  is  the 
better  part  of  valor,  the  Count  proposed  an  immediate 
attack  on  the  town  of  Mansourah. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  French  Prince,  "  let  us  set 
upon  the  foe,  while  afTairs  prosper  in  our  hands,  and 
they  are  in  dismay.  Speed  will  now  be  of  more 
avail  than  strength  ;  and  the  fewer  we  are,  the  greater 
will  be  our  gain.  Forward,  then,  and  crush  the  Sara- 
cens at  a  blow." 

"  Hurrah,  upon  them  !  Upon  them  !  "  shouted  an 
old  deaf  knight,  who  held  the  Count's  rein.  "For- 
ward !  Forward  !  " 

"  Noble  Count,"  said  the  Master  of  the  Templars, 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOTJEAH.  271 

"  we  give  all  praise  to  your  bravery ;  but  be  advised. 
Our  men  are  weary  ;  our  horses  are  wounded  ;  and 
wc  must  not  overvalue  our  victory,  or  suppose  our 
enemies  are  conquered,  because  they  have  lost  a  hand- 
ful of  soldiers.  Let  us,  therefore,  return  to  the  King, 
that  we  may  be  strengthened  by  his  counsel  and  aid. 
We  are  in  a  strange  country  ;  and  our  best  instructors 
are  behind.  Let  us  stay  for  our  lantern,  and  not  go 
forward  in  the  dark." 

"  Ah  !  sir  Knight,"  exclaimed  the  Count,  swelling 
with  anger  and  pride  ;  "  you  are  at  the  old  game.  But 
for  the  treachery  of  the  Templars,  and  the  sedition  of 
the  Hospitallers,  and  others  calling  themselves  religious 
men,  the  Holy  Land  would  long  since  have  been 
gained." 

"  Why,  noble  Count,"  said  the  Grand  Master, 
"  should  we  take  the  habit  of  religion  >  Is  it,  think 
you,  to  overthrow  the  church,  and  betray  the  cause 
of  Christ,  that  we  abandon  our  homes  and  kindred, 
and  pass  our  days  in  a  foreign  land,  amid  perils  and 
fatigue  >  However,  standard-bearer,  unfurl  the  banner 
of  the  Temple,  and  let  us  forward,  in  God's  name, 
to  try  all  together  the  fortunes  of  battle  and  the  chances 
of  death." 

"  My  Lord,"  said  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  addressing 
the  Count  of  Artois,  "  I  pray  you  to  listen  to  the 
wholesome  counsel  of  the  Grand  Master.  He  has 
long  been  in  this  country,  and  has  learned,  by  expe- 
rience, the  cunning  as  well  as  the  strength  of  our  foes. 
We  being  strangers  are  ignorant  of  our  perils  ;  but  we 
know  that  as  far  as  the  East  is  from  the  West,  so  far 
are  we  different  from  the  Orientals." 


272    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

"  What  cowardice  there  Is  in  these  Enghsh  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  Count,  in  a  tone  so  loud  as  to  be  heard 
by  hundreds.  "  But  their  timid  counsel  suits  not  us. 
Happy,  indeed,  should  I  deem  our  army,  if  purged 
from  these  English  tails." 

*'  Sir  Robert  de  Vere,  raise  my  standard,"  ex- 
claimed Salisbury,  mounting  his  Flemish  charger, 
and  striving  to  be  calm,  though  the  Plantagenet  blood 
boiled  in  his  veins  ;  "  and  you.  Count  of  Artois,  lead 
on,  and  see  if  we  are  dismayed  by  the  peril  of  death. 
The  touchstone  must  tell  what  is  gold  and  what  is 
brass  ;  and,  by  good  St.  George  I  swear,  as  I  put  on 
my  helmet,  that  we  '  English  tails  '  will  this  day  be 
where  you  will  not  dare  come  nigh  the  tails  of  our 
horses." 

The  dispute  having  thus  come  to  an  end,  the  Count 
of  Artois  and  his  comrades  put  on  their  head-pieces 
and  mounted  their  steeds ;  and  French,  Templars, 
Hospitallers,  and  English,  dashed  towards  Mansou- 
rah.  Meeting  at  first  with  no  opposition,  they  pene- 
trated into  the  city ;  while  the  mhabitants  fled  in 
terror  along  the  road  to  Cairo.  But,  at  that  moment, 
the  keen  eye  of  Bibars  Bendocdar  perceived  the  im- 
prudence of  which  the  crusaders  had  been  guilty  ;  and 
rallying  the  flying  Saracens,  the  Mameluke  chief  led 
them  down  upon  the  conquerors  of  Fakreddin.  Few 
as  the  crusaders  were,  in  comparison  with  the  swarm- 
ing foe,  they  fought  gallantly  and  well ;  fighting 
as  became  knights  and  soldiers  of  the  cross.  But, 
against  the  host  under  Bibars  Bendocdar,  their  courage 
proved  in  vain ;  and  now,  seeing  the  folly  of  which  he 
had  been  the  author,  the  Count  of  Artois  thought  of 
retreat. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOUEAH.  273 

"  Earl  William,"  cried  the  French  Prince,  riding  up 
to  Salisbury,  "  God  fights  asjainst  us  —  we  can  no 
longer  resist.  Let  us  consult  our  safety  by  flight, 
and  escape  while  our  horses  can  carry  us." 

u  pjy  j  "  exclaimed  the  English  Earl  scornfully  ; 
"  God  forbid,  Count,  that  my  father's  sou  should  fly 
from  the  face  of  a  Saracen." 

By  this  time,  the  plight  of  the  Christians  was 
desperate;  but,  though  wounded  and  exhausted, 
they  maintained  the  struggle  for  hours.  Nearly 
fifteen  hundred  knights  fell  in  the  conflict  ;  nearly 
three  hundred  of  whom  were  of  the  order  of  the 
Temple. 

But  no  man  bore  himself  more  bravely  than  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury.  Resolved  to  sell  his  hfe  at  the 
dearest  rate,  he  faced  the  Saracens  with  desperate 
valor,  dealino;  death  all  around  him.  At  length  his 
horse's  feet  were  cut  ofl*;  and  the  steed  bore  his  rider 
to  the  ground.  Even  then,  Salisbury,  raising  himself 
from  the  ground,  fought  with  disdain  and  fell  with 
dignity.*'  Robert  de  Vere,  seeing  the  Earl  fall,  folded 
the  English  standard  round  his  body  and  lay  down 
exhausted  to  die   by  his  leader's  side.     The  Count  of 


*  '*  When  the  account  of  this  misfortune  reached  the  ears 
of  the  Abbess  and  Countess  Hehx,"  says  MattheAV  Paris,  "  she, 
with  a  cheerful  spirit,  clasped  hands,  and  on  bended  knees, 
broke  forth  in  praise  of  God,  highly  pleasing  to  Christ,  in  these 
■words  :  '  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  I  give  thee  thanks  for  having  willed 
it,  that  I,  a  sinner,  should  be  the  mother  of  a  son  whom  you 
have  designed  to  honor  with  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  I  hope,  by 
his  intercession,  I  shall  soon  be  advanced  to  the  glories  of  the 
heavenly  kingdom." 


274         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Artois  had  disappeared ;  but  it  is  somewhat  uncertain 
whether  he  fell  in  the  carnage  or  was  drowned  while 
attempting  to  save  himself  by  flight.  The  most 
probable  account,  however,  is,  that  finding  the  struggle 
vain,  he  turned  his  horse's  head,  spurred  off,  with 
a  vague  hope  of  regaining  the  main  army,  and  sank 
with  his  steed,  never  more  to  rise,  while  attempting  to 
swim  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Nile. 

Of  the  many  hundred  knights,  who,  at  daybreak  on 
Shrove  Tuesday,  crossed  the  canal  of  Achmoum,  two 
only  escaped  the  carnage  at  Mansourah.  One  was 
the  Master  of  the  Temple,  the  other  the  Master  of  the 
Hospital.  Perceiving  that  all  his  knights  were  slain, 
and  that  the  day  was  lost,  the  Templar  made  for  the 
camp  of  the  Christians.  Finding  himself  left  alone  on 
the  field,  and  despairing  of  escape,  the  Hospitaller 
yielded  himself  prisoner  to  the  Saracens.  It  was  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the  conflict  commenced  ; 
it  was  three  in  the  afternoon  ere  all  was  over. 

Meanwhile,  the  main  body  of  the  French  army 
had,  under  the  King's  auspices,  with  great  difficulty 
crossed  the  canal  of  Achmoum.  Ere  the  passage  had 
been  effected,  however,  intelhgence  reached  the  King 
that  the  Count  of  Artois  was  hard  pressed  by  the  Sara- 
cens. Without  delay,  the  Count  of  Brittany  and  a 
multitude  of  knights  rushed  to  the  rescue,  fighting  as 
they  went ;  for  the  distance  they  had  to  travel  was  two 
leagues,  and  the  plain  between  the  canal  and  Mansou- 
rah was  covered  with  Saracens. 

At  length,  the  sound  of  trumpets  and  clarions  an- 
nounced that  the  French  had  crossed  the  canal  ;  and 
Louis,  halting  on  an  eminence,  surveyed  the  scene. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOXJUAH.  275 

"  I  saw  the  King  arrive,"  says  Joinville,  "  with  all  his 
attendants,  and  with  a  terrible  noise  of  trumpets, 
clarions,  and  horns.  He  halted  on  an  eminence,  with 
his  men-at-arms,  for  something  he  had  to  say  ;  and  I 
assure  you,  that  I  never  saw  so  handsome  a  man  under 
arms.  He  was  taller  than  any  of  his  troops  by  the 
shoulders ;  and  his  helmet,  which  was  gilded,  was 
handsomely  placed  on  his  head ;  and  he  bore  a  German 
sword  in  his  hand."  While  the  King  was  still  hesita- 
ting what  to  do,  the  Constable  of  France  spurred  for- 
ward, and  informed  him  of  the  peril  in  which  the 
Count  of  Artois  was  placed. 

"  Sire,"  said  the  Constable,  "  your  noble  brother  is 
surrounded  at  Mansourah.  He  holds  out  gallantly ; 
but  is  much  in  need  of  aid." 

"  Constable,"  said  Louis,  "  spur  forward  to  his 
rescue,  and  I  will  follow  thee." 

The  King  and  his  knights  now  galloped  towards  Man- 
sourah ;  but  ere  they  reached  the  town  the  aspect  of 
affairs  became  much  more  threatening.  In  fact,  Bibars 
Bendocdar,  having  defeated  the  Count  of  Artois,  came 
with  a  mighty  force  to  encounter  Louis  ;  and  ere  the 
crusaders  comprehended  what  was  occurring,  they  were 
separated  from  each  other,  and  found  themselves  face 
to  face  with  countless  foes.  A  strange  tumultuous 
fight  then  took  place  ;  and  the  plain  shook  with  a 
thousand  combats.  "  Montjoie,  St.  Denis  !  "  the  war- 
cry  of  the  French,  was  answered  by  the  Saracens  with 
shouts  of  "  Islam !  Islam  !  "  and  all  was  carnage  and 
confusion  from  Mansourah  to  the  Achriioum. 

Notwithstanding  the  disadvantage  at  which  they 
were,  the  French  warriors  fought  with  gallant  bravery, 


2-76  THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADEUS. 

and  wrought  many  memorable  exploits.  Jolnville,  with 
six  other  knights,  had  the  perilous  duty  of  defending 
a  small  bridge  against  a  host  of  Saracens  ;  and  main- 
tained his  post  with  characteristic  courage.  Observing 
the  Count  of  Soissons,  who  was  his  kinsman,  approach, 
the  Seneschal  hastened  to  secure  his  aid. 

"  Sir  Count,"  he  cried,  "  should  this  bridge  be  lost, 
the  King  will  at  the  same  time  have  his  enemies  both 
in  front  and  rear.  Wherefore,  I  beg  you  to  remain 
and  guard  it." 

"  Willingly,  Seneschal,"  answered  the  Count,  as  he 
placed  himself  on  Joinville's  right  hand. 

W^hile  the  defenders  of  the  bridge  were  sittinor  on 
horseback,  prepared  to  keep  it  against  all  comers,  a 
Saracen,  galloping  suddenly  up,  felled  one  of  the 
knights  with  a  battle-axe,  and  crossed  to  his  own 
people,  thinking  Joinville  would  follow.  But  the 
Seneschal  perceived  the  stratagem,  and  would  not 
be  decoyed  from  his  post.  After  having  been  fearfully 
annoyed,  however,  by  a  crowd  of  half-armed  Saracens, 
Joinville  and  his  friends  made  a  charire.  The  Sara- 
cens  fled  from  the  place  ;  but  turned  when  at  a  safe 
distance,  and  shouted  out  a  defiance.  "  Seneschal," 
said  the  Count  of  Soissons  gaily,  as  the  knights  re- 
sumed their  post,  "  let  the  rascal  rabble  bawl  and  bray 
as  they  please,  by  the  Cresse  Dieu,  you  and  I  will  live 
to  talk  of  this  day's  exploits  in  the  chambers  of  our 
ladies  !  " 

While  the  Count  of  Soissons  indulo-ed  his  jrav  humor 
in  the  midst  of  peril  and  perplexity,  a  knight,  mounted 
on  a  short,  but  strong  horse,  came  galloping  towards 
them   from    ]\Iansourah.     His  plight   was    unenviable; 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOURAII.  277 

for  his  face  was  wounded  ;  blood  was  rushing  from  his 
mouth  ;  and  the  reins  of  his  bridle  were  cut,  so  that 
he  was  under  the  necessity  of  supporting  himself  by 
his  horse's  neck.  The  wounded  knight  was  the  Count 
of  Brittany  ;  and  he  was  closely  pursued  by  Saracens. 
"  Yet,"  remarks  Joinville,  "  he  does  not  seem  to  be 
afraid  of  them  ;  for  he  frequently  turns  round  and 
gives  them  abusive  words  by  way  of  mockery." 

Meantime,  all  over  the  plain,  the  battle  was  going 
on  ;  and  the  King,  becoming  alarmed,  ordered  that  the 
French  should  draw  near  the  canal.  The  oriflamme 
had  already  indicated  the  direction  to  be  taken,  when 
messengers  arrived  from  one  side  to  announce  that  the 
Count  of  Artois  was  in  danger  of  perishing,  and  from 
the  other  to  say  that  the  Count  of  Poictiers  must  suc- 
cumb unless  rescued  ;  and  while  the  King,  perplexed 
by  these  messages,  remained  in  thought,  some  of  his 
knights  spurred  off  in  one  direction  and  some  in 
another,  till  the  utmost  confusion  prevailed. 

When  matters  reached  this  stage,  Louis  made  every 
effort  to  restore  order,  but  in  vain.  His  voice  was 
scarcely  heard  amid  the  din  of  battle.  Anxious  and 
apprehensive,  he  endeavored  to  save  his  army  ;  and, 
fearless  of  personal  danger,  he  soon  found  himself  in 
the  thick  of  the  fight  and  environed  by  foes.  He 
seemed,  indeed,  to  have  sealed  his  fate ;  and  six 
Saracens,  rushing  forward  at  once,  attempted  to  seize 
his  bridle,  and  take  him  prisoner.  At  this  point,  how- 
ever, Louis,  who  with  all  his  saintly  theories,  was  a 
warrior  of  mettle,  exerted  all  his  strength,  and  beat  off 
his  assailants  with  an  energy  that  Godfrey  or  Richard 
might  have  envied,  till  the  French  knights,  observing 
24 


378         THE    CRUSADES   AND    THE    CRUSADEKS.  ^ 

their  King's  danger  and  animated  by  his  courage, 
spurred  to  the  rescue,  and  robbed  the  Saracens  of 
their  prey. 

Night,  at  length,  put  an  end  to  the  conflict ;  the 
Grand  Master  of  the  Templars,  with  his  vestments  torn 
to  rags,  his  cuirass  pierced,  and  his  face  wounded, 
reached  the  army  of  crusaders,  and  described  the 
scene  in  which  he  had  enacted  a  part.  When,  there- 
fore, Bibars  Bendocdar  retired  to  Mansourah,  and 
Louis,  retreating  to  Djedile,  took  possession  of  the  Sa- 
racens' camp  and  their  engines  of  war,  the  Prior  of  the 
hospital  of  Ronnay,  wishing  to  break  the  news  gently, 
presented  himself,  and  kissed  the  King's  gauntleted 
hand. 

"  Have  you  any  tidings,  Sire,"  asked  the  Prior,  "  of 
your  noble  brother,  the  Count  of  Artois  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Louis,  sorrowfully  ;  "I  know 
all." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  Prior,  thinking  to  convey  comfort, 
"  no  King  of  France  has  ever  reaped  such  honor  as 
you  have  done.  You  have  crossed  a  dangerous  river 
to  combat  your  enemies  ;  you  have  gained  the  day ; 
you  have  put  them  to  flight ;  and  now  you  conclude 
the  business  by  taking  possession  of  the  camp  which 
they  occupied." 

"  God  be  praised  for  all  the  good  He  has  granted 
me,"  said  Louis. 

The  voice  of  the  saintly  King  faltered  as  he  spoke  ; 
and  tears,  rolling  down  his  cheeks,  expressed  more 
touchingly  than  words  could  have  done  the  melancholy 
feelings  at  his  heart.  The  Prior  of  Ronnay  might, 
indeed,  talk   cheeringly  of    Mansourah,  and  use   fine 


THE    BATTLE    OF    MANSOURAH.  279 

words  to  make  it  seem  a  victory ;  but  Louis  was  in  no 
mood  to  be  deluded  by  phrases.  Reflecting  on  the 
losses  sustained  that  day  by  the  soldiers  of  the  cross, 
he  could  not  help  feeling  that  such  a  victory  was  al- 
most worse  than  a  defeat ;  and  it  was  doubtless  with 
sadness  and  sorrow,  that  the  royal  warrior  that  night 
laid  his  head  upon  a  pillow  and  commended  his  soul  to 
God. 


280  THE    CRUSADES   AND    THE    CliUSADEKS. 


CHAPTER    XL 

DISASTERS   AND    CALAMITIES. 

While  the  French  were  encamped  at  Djedile,  and 
their  King  was  mourning  the  fate  of  his  kinsman  and 
countrymen,  the  Saracens  evinced  the  utmost  satisfac- 
tion with  the  resuhs  of  Shrove  Tuesday,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  celebrate  the  battle  of  Mansourah  as  a 
victory. 

It  appears  that  when,  on  the  morning  of  that 
eventful  day,  the  van  of  the  crusaders  crossed  the 
Achmoum,  and  seized  the  camp  of  the  Emir  Fak- 
reddin,  news  of  the  disaster  was  carried  by  a  pigeon 
to  the  Egyptian  capital.  Cairo  was  instantly  in  con- 
sternation. The  inhabitants  beheved  the  days  of 
Islamism  to  be  numbered,  and  were  eager  to  es- 
cape ;  but  they  seemed  to  think  the  world  was 
coming  to  an  end,  and  hardly  knew  where  to  go. 
Many,  however,  prepared  to  depart  to  Upper  Egypt ; 
and  the  gates  of  the  city  were  left  open  to  admit 
further  intelligence  without  delay.  All  night  sorrow 
reigned  in  the  city  :  but  in  the  morning  a  second 
pigeon  brought  tidings  of  the  defeat  of  the  Count  of 
Artois,  and  Cairo  became  the  scene  of  joy.  Every- 
thing like  fear  vanished ;  and  everybody  rejoiced  that 


DISASTERS   AND    CALAMITIES.  281 

the  God  of  Mahomet  had  declared  against  the  Chris- 
tians. 

Meanwhile  Bibars  Bendocdar  lost  no  time  in  pur- 
suing his  triumph.  On  the  night  of  Shrove  Tuesday, 
the  Saracens  made  several  attempts  to  recapture  their 
machines  of  war  ;  and  the  crusaders,  though  wounded 
and  fatigued,  were  repeatedly  under  the  necessity  of 
rousing  themselves  to  energy,  and  defending  their 
position  at  the  point  of  the  sword.  Alarm  after  alarm 
was  given  ;  and,  though  the  Christian  warriors  kept 
the  enemy  at  bay,  they  felt  the  peril  to  which  they 
were  exposed  ;  passed  hours  in  preparing  for  defence  ; 
and  erected  a  bridge  over  the  Achmoum,  in  order  to 
form  a  junction  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  camp. 

While  the  crusaders  were  thus  employed,  Bibars 
Bendocdar  did  everything  likely  to  inflame  the  ardor 
of  his  soldiers.  A  cuirass,  covered  with  fleur-de-Hs, 
and  declared  to  be  that  of  the  French  King,  was 
publicly  exhibited  ;  the  heads  of  several  knights  were 
carried  about  in  triumph,  as  ghastly  trophies  of  the 
slaughter  at  Mansourah  ;  heralds  loudly  proclaimed 
that  the  Christian  army  was  a  trunk  without  life  ;  Euid 
the  soldiers  clamored  to  be  led  against  the  foe. 

Bibars  Bendocdar  was  in  no  mood  to  baflle  a  desire 
so  universally  expressed  ;  and,  on  the  first  Friday  in 
Lent,  he  formed  his  men  in  battle  order.  But  Louis 
had  been  warned  that  an  attack  was  meditated  ;  and 
when  the  Mameluke  chief  marched  into  the  plain,  he 
found  his  foes  under  arms,  and  prepared  to  resist  with 
the  zeal  of  crusaders  and  the  courage  of  gentlemen. 

Bibars  Bendocdar  was  not  dismayed  by  the  prospect 
of  a  stern   conflict.     The    formidable    front  presented 
21* 


282         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

by  the  crusaders  greatly  increased  the  Mameluke's 
importance  in  his  soldiers'  eyes,  and  brought  him 
nearer  to  the  object  of  ambition  on  which  he  had  set 
his  heart.  Placing  his  cavalry  in  the  van,  ranging 
his  infantry  behind,  and  his  reserve  in  the  rear,  the 
bold  warrior  extended  his  hnes  till  his  host  covered  the 
plain. 

Having  set  his  men  in  battle  array,  and  ordered 
the  charge  to  be  sounded,  Bibars  Bendocdar  advanced 
upon  the  foe  ;  and  the  Saracen  infantry  commenced 
the  conflict  by  attacking  the  French  under  the  Count 
of  Anjou.  This  division,  composed  of  cavalry,  was 
quickly  overwhelmed  with  Greek  fire.  Surcoats  and 
caparisons  were  soon  in  a  blaze  ;  and  the  horses,  break- 
ing from  their  riders,  plunged  and  galloped  hither  and 
thither.  Availing  themselves  of  the  confusion,  the 
Saracen  cavalry  penetrated  within  the  entrenchments, 
and  the  Count  was  surrounded  by  countless  foes. 

When  news  of  the  Count's  peril  was  carried  to 
Louis,  the  King  exhibited  a  courage  worthy  of  his 
fame.  Shouting  his  battle-cry,  Louis  immediately 
spurred  to  the  rescue  ;  and,  undismayed  by  the  arrows 
or  by  the  Greek  fire  that  fell  on  the  caparisons  of  his 
horse,  he  charged,  at  the  head  of  his  knights,  right 
upon  the  foe,  and  rescued  his  brother  from  a  perilous 
predicament. 

But  while  Louis  thus  saved  the  Count  of  Anjou 
from  destruction,  the  Count  of  Poictiers  was  exposed 
to  equal  danger.  At  the  opening  of  the  battle,  the 
Count's  division,  composed  of  infantry,  gave  way  be- 
fore the  charge  of  the  Saracen  horse  ;  and  the  Count 
had  the  mortification  of  seeing  his  men  scattered,  and 


DISASTERS    AND    CALAMITIES.  283 

finding  himself  seized  as  a  prisoner.  Luckily,  how- 
ever, for  the  Count,  he  was  a  favorite  with  the  people  ; 
and  no  sooner  did  the  workmen,  and  sutlers,  and  camp- 
followers  see  him  seized,  than  they  rushed  impetu- 
ously forward  and  effected  his  rescue. 

Meanwhile,  the  courage  of  Louis  had  wrought  won- 
ders. Inspired  hy  the  example  of  the  French  King, 
the  warriors  of  the  cross  resisted  with  dauntless  valor. 
Fortune  still  denied  Bibars  Bendocdar  a  decisive 
victory ;  and  against  the  crusaders  the  energy  of  the 
Mameluke  chief,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  his  followers, 
were  exerted  in  vain.  Every  minute  the  resistance 
became  more  stubborn.  At  one  point,  the  crusaders 
from  Cyprus  and  Syria  valiantly  resisted  the  foe  ;  at 
another  point,  those  of  Champagne  and  Flanders  bore 
up  against  great  odds ;  at  a  third,  the  Templars, 
though  sadly  reduced  in  number  by  Tuesday's  car- 
nage, and  depressed  by  the  death  of  their  Grand 
]\Iaster,  who  had  fallen  early  in  the  day  with  several 
of  his  knights,  exhibited  the  fine  spectacle  of  a  handful 
of  men  baffling  a  host. 

Finding  that  he  was  wasting  his  strength  in  a  vain 
attempt,  Bibars  Bendocdar  drew  off  his  men.  But  he 
had  his  consolation  in  leaving  the  enemy  in  a  condition 
so  perilous,  that  neither  Louis  nor  his  friends  knew  on 
what  side  to  turn.  The  crusaders,  in  fact,  could  no 
longer  cherish  the  idea  of  advancing  to  Cairo.  A 
retreat  to  Damietta  was  still  more  than  their  pride 
could  brook.  In  their  despair,  they  determined  to  re- 
main at  Djedile. 

The  calamities  of  the  crusaders  now  began  in  earnest. 
After  the  two  battles,  they  had  neglected  to  bury  the 


28^4     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEES. 

slain  ;  and  the  bodies,  cast  into  the  Achmoum,  and 
raised  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  soon  caused  a 
pestilence  in  the  camp.  The  abstinence  during  Lent 
added  to  the  horrors  of  the  disease  ;  numbers  perished 
daily  ;  and,  ere  long,  nothing  was  heard  but  prayers 
for  the  dead  and  dying. 

At  length  Louis  was  added  to  the  list  of  sick  ;  and 
while  all  around  was  death  and  despair,  news  suddenly 
ceased  to  arrive  from  Damietta.  This  circumstance 
caused  the  most  gloomy  forebodings  ;  but  a  vessel 
belonging  to  the  Count  of  Flanders  at  length  reached 
the  camp,  and  brought  tidings  that  the  Saracens,  in 
order  to  add  the  evil  of  famine  to  that  of  pestilence, 
had  resolved  to  interrupt  communication  ;  that,  with 
such  a  view,  they  had  transported  a  number  of  galleys 
overland,  and  formed  an  ambuscade  ;  that  many 
French  vessels  had  been  taken  unawares ;  and  that  the 
Mussulman  flag  was  displayed  all  along  the  Nile. 
The  consequence  of  this  soon  appeared  in  the  shape 
of  famine  :  and  the  crusaders,  deeming  a  truce  their 
sole  chance,  despatched  Philip  de  Montfort  as  ambas- 
sador. 

While  the  crusaders  were  suffering,  the  Saracens, 
aware  of  the  power  of  such  auxiliaries  as  pestilence 
and  famine,  remained  motionless  in  their  camp. 
Nevertheless,  they  expressed  their  readiness  to  treat 
with  Montfort,  and  nominated  commissioners  for  that 
purpose.  Everythmg  went  smoothly,  and  the  Sara- 
cens appeared  ready  to  agree  to  anything  reason- 
able. But  when  the  question  of  hostages  came  to  be 
discussed,  and  the  French  offered  the  Counts  of  Anjou 
and  roictiers,  the  Saracens  insisted  on  retaining  the 


DISASTERS    AND    CALAMITIES.  285 

King  of  France.  This  proposal  terminated  the  nego- 
tiations ;  and  the  crusaders,  crossing  the  Achmoum  by 
the  bridge  they  had  erected,  appointed  a  day  for 
marching  back  to  Damietta. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  appointed  day,  the  sick,  the 
wounded,  the  women  and  the  children  were  embarked 
on  the  Nile  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  papal  legate, 
with  several  French  nobles,  got  on  board  a  vessel. 
The  King  was  urged  to  follow  their  example  ;  but  he 
would  not  abandon  his  army.  The  soldiers,  however, 
endeavored  to  secure  his  safety,  and  ran  along  the 
bank  shouting  to  the  boatmen  not  to  go  till  the  King 
embarked. 

"  Wait  for  the  King  !  Wait  for  the  King !  "  was 
their  cry. 

"  No  !  "  said  Louis,  touched  but  resolute.  "  Go  on. 
I  will  share  weal  or  woe  with  my  soldiers.  I  am  not 
such  a  niggard  of  Hfe  as  not  to  spend  it  in  such  good 
company  and  in  so  good  a  cause." 

The  boats  now  began  to  descend  the  Nile  ;  but  they 
were  not  destined  to  reach  Damietta.  Attacked  by 
the  Saracens,  every  vessel,  save  that  of  the  legate, 
was  destroyed,  and  those  on  board  were  sacrificed 
without  mercy.  More  than  thirty  thousand  crusaders 
lost  their  lives.  A  few  men  of  rank,  deemed  likely  to 
pay  ransom,  were  spared  :  and  among  these  was  the 
Sieur  de  Joinville,  whom  the  Saracens  believed  to  be 
the  King's  cousin. 

While  the  boats  went  down  the  Nile,  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  broke  up  his  camp  ;  and  at  nightfall  the 
crusaders  commenced  their  march  towards  Damietta. 
The  King  brought  up  the  rear  ;  but  he  was  in  no  con- 


286    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CEUSADERS. 

dition  to  occupy  the  post  of  honor.  He  wore  neither 
cuirass  nor  hehnct  ;  he  had  no  weapon  but  his  sword  ; 
and  he  had  scarcely  sufficient  strength  to  support  him- 
self on  his  steed.  Circumstances  soon  rendered  his 
position  perilous.  The  French  had  neglected  to  break 
down  the  bridge  across  the  Achmoum  ;  and  no  sooner 
did  the  King  move  towards  Damietta,  than  the  Sara- 
cens, usmg  it  to  cross  the  canal,  covered  the  plain  on 
the  Damietta  side,  and  charged  the  crusaders  at  every 
turn.  The  scene  that  ensued  was  fearful.  Unable,  in 
the  darkness,  to  see  their  foes,  the  crusaders  were  ex- 
posed to  countless  disasters ;  and  at  length,  on  reach- 
ing the  little  to^\-n  of  Minieh,  they  drew  up  on  a  hill, 
with  the  desperate  determination  of  fighting  to  the 
death. 

Louis  was  now  utterly  exhausted.  Weak  as  a  child, 
the  saintly  King  was  lifted  from  his  horse  and  carried 
into  the  town  ;  and  all  around  was  consternation  and 
despair,  when  Philip  de  Montfort  came  and  proposed 
to  renew  negotiations. 

"  Sire,"  said  the  Knight,  "  I  have  just  seen  the  Emir, 
with  whom  I  treated  for  a  suspension  of  hostilities : 
and,  if  it  is  your  good  pleasure,  I  will  see  him  again  on 
the  subject." 

"  Go,"  said  Louis,  *'  and  promise  to  submit  to  the 
conditions  first  required  by  the  Sultan." 

Montfort  accordingly  went ;  and  the  Saracens,  still 
feeling  some  dread  of  their  foes,  agreed  to  treat.  Mont- 
fort had  already  given  the  Emir  a  ring  from  his  finger, 
and  their  hands  had  met,  when  a  traitor  rushed  in  and 
interrupted  the  conference. 

*'  Seigneurs  —  noble   knights  of    France,"    he    ex- 


DISASTEES    AND    CALAMITIES.  287 

claimed,  "  surrender  yourselves  all !     The  King  com- 
mands you  by  me.     Do  not  cause  him  to  be  killed." 

"  It  is  not  customary  to  treat  with  vanquished  foes," 
said  the  Emir  on  hearing  the  message  ;  and  he  forth- 
with terminated  the  negotiation. 

All  was  now  over  ;  and  the  crusaders,  feeling  that 
such  was  the  case,  ceased  to  resist  their  fate.  In  truth, 
the  Saracens  gave  them  no  time  to  reflect  or  rally ; 
for  one  of  the  Emirs,  entering  Minieh,  seized  the  King, 
his  brothers,  and  his  knights,  placed  chains  on  their 
hands  and  feet,  and  conducted  them  m  triumph  to  a 
boat  of  war.  No  generoshy  was  shown  towards  the 
vanquished.  The  oriflamme  was  paraded  with  scorn  ; 
crosses  and  images  were  trampled  under  foot ;  and, 
with  trumpets  sounding  and  kettle-drums  clashing,  the 
captive  crusaders  were  marched  into  Mansourah. 

While  the  barons  and  knights  of  France  were  hud- 
dled together  into  an  enclosure,  and  daily  decimated 
by  an  executioner,  the  King  was  confined  to  the  house 
of  a  minister  of  the  Sultan,  and  placed  under  guard  of 
a  eunuch.     After  some  days,  Louis  was  offered  Uberty 
on  condition  of  surrendering  Damietta  and  the  cities  of 
Palestine  still  possessed  by  Christians ;   but  he  calmly 
refused  to  treat  on   such  terms,  and  listened  with  pas- 
sive  defiance   to   threats   of  perpetual   imprisonment. 
At  length  his  jailors  menaced   him  with  violence,  and 
pointed  significantly  to   a   frightful  instrument  of  tor- 
ture Imown   as  the  "  Bernicles."      "  I  am  your  cap- 
tive," said  Louis  with   serene   dignity,  "  and  you  can 
do  with  me  as  you  please." 


288    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE    QUEEN    AT    DAillETTA. 

While  Louis,  in  captivity  and  chains,  was  exhib- 
iting the  dignity  of  a  gentleman  and  the  resignation  of 
a  Christian,  Margaret  of  Provence  was  proving  herself 
not  unworthy  of  such  a  husband. 

At  first,  the  rumors  of  the  calamities  of  the  crusa- 
ders which  reached  Damietta  were  vague  and  uncertain  ; 
but  ere  long  intelligence  that  the  whole  army  had  been 
destroyed,  produced  general  consternation.  Some 
degree  of  selfishness  was,  of  course,  displayed.  The 
Pisans  and  Genoese  immediately  bethought  them  of 
securing  their  own  safety  ;  the  ladies  of  the  crusaders 
bewailed  the  fate  of  their  lords  and  their  own  extreme 
peril ;  and  the  Queen,  who  was  on  the  point  of  becom- 
ing a  mother,  was  afflicted  to  such  a  degree,  that  a 
knight,  who  had  seen  more  than  eighty  summers,  but 
whose  heart  still  overflowed  with  chivalry,  was  under 
the  necessity  of  guarding  her  chamber  by  day  and  by 
night.  At  one  time,  her  imagination  conjured  up  a 
fearful  scene,  in  which  a  body  of  Saracens  appeared 
butchering  her  husband ;  at  another,  she  believed 
that  the  Saracens  had  entered  her  chamber,  and  were 
about  to  kill  her  ;  and  scarcely  had  she  sunk  exhausted 
and  closed  her  eyes  in  sleep,  when  she  was  startled  by 


THE    QUEEX    AT    DAMIETTA.  289 

some  fearful  dream,  and  sprang  up  in  terror  and 
dismay. 

"  Help,  help  !  "  shouted  the  afflicted  Queen,  "  they 
are  upon  us." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  aged  Knight,  "  do  not  be 
alarmed.     I  am  with  you.     Dismiss  your  fears." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  exclaimed  the  unhappy  woman, 
throwing  herself  on  her  knees,  "  promise  that  you  will 
grant  me  the  favor  I  am  about  to  ask." 

"  I  give  you  my  oath,  madam,"  answered  the  old 
warrior,  "  that  T  will  comply  with  your  wishes." 

"Then,  sir  Knight,"  said  the  Queen,  "I  request, 
by  the  faith  you  have  pledged,  that  if  the  Saracens 
should  take  the  city,  you  will  cut  off  my  head  rather 
than  allow  me  to  fall  into  their  hands." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  old  Knight,  "  I  have  already 
thouo-ht  of  doinn;  so,  in  case  the  worst  should  befall." 

Margaret  after  this  scene  was  more  composed  ;  and, 
on  the  third  day  after  receiving  the  sad  intelligence, 
she  gave  birth  to  her  son  John.  Hardly,  however, 
had  she  wept  over  this  "  child  of  misery,"  when  she 
was  informed  that  the  Pisans  and  Genoese,  in  their 
discontent,  were  about  to  abandon  Damietta  and  return 
to  their  homes.  On  receiving  this  alarming  intelli- 
gence, Margaret  ordered  the  chief  male-contents  to  be 
brought  to  her  chamber,  and  addressed  them  from  her 
couch. 

"  Gentlemen,"    said    the    Queen,  raising    her    head, 

"  for  the  love  of  God,  do  not  leave  this  city  ;  for  you 

know  well   if  vou   do,   that   vou  will  utterlv   ruin   the 

King  and  his  army.     Be  moved  by  my  tears,  and  have 

26 


290     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

compassion  on  the  poor  child  whom  you  see  lying  by 
my  side." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  Pisans  and  Genoese,  utterly  un- 
moved  by  the  tears  and  supplications  of  the  distressed 
Queen,  "  we  have  no  provisions  left  ;  and  we  cannot 
stay  longer  at  the  risk  of  dying  of  hunger." 

"  Fear  not,"  said  the  Queen.  "  You  shall  not  die 
of  hunger.  I  will  cause  all  the  provisions  in  the  place 
to  be  bought,  and  distributed  henceforth  in  the  name 
of  the  King." 

On  receiving  this  assurance,  the  Pisans  and  Genoese 
consented  to  remain ;  and  Margaret,  at  the  cost  of  three 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  livres,  provided  for  their 
subsistence.  But  the  men  whom  the  Queen  thus 
retained  as  a  garrison,  Avere  not  likely  to  make  any 
formidable  resistance  in  the  event  of  a  siege ;  and 
doubtless  it  was  not  without  dismay  that  Margaret 
heard  of  a  Saracenic  host's  approach. 

It  appears  that  while  Margaret  was  providing  for  the 
defence  of  Damietta,  with  a  spirit  which  almost  entitles 
her  to  a  place  in  history  beside  such  heroines  as  the 
Countesses  of  Salisbury,  Dunbar,  and  Derby,  the  Sara- 
cens, finding  that  Louis  would  not  consent  to  surrender 
the  city,  conceived  the  idea  of  taking  it  by  force. 
*' Why  do  we  hesitate?"  they  asked,  ''when  we  can 
obtain  Damietta  whether  this  petty  prince  is  willing  or 
unwilling  ?  " 

An  attack  on  Damietta  was  soon  decided  on  ;  and 
the  Saracens,  having  mustered  a  numerous  army,  and 
arrayed  themselves  in  the  armor  of  the  crusaders, 
marched  towards  the  city.  Displaying  the  banners  of 
the  captive  pilgrims,  tlie  Eastern  warriors  approached 


THE    QUEEN    AT    DAMIETTA.  291 

the  walls,  hoping  to  pass  themselves  as  French,  and 
thus,  by  obtaining  access  without  opposition,  to  secure 
an  easy  victory.  But  on  this  point  they  found  them- 
selves mistaken.  At  first,  indeed,  the  defenders  of 
Damietta  were  deceived ;  but,  on  closer  inspection, 
they  suspected  a  stratagem,  and  rushed  to  guard  the 
gates  and  approaches. 

The  Saracens,  mortified  with  this  reception,  impe- 
riously demanded  admission,  and  told  the  French  that 
their  King  and  all  his  knights  had  perished.  But  the 
Christians  in  Damietta,  shouting  out  a  loud  defiance, 
guarded  every  approach  with  vigilance,  and  repulsed 
every  attempt  with  alacrity.  *'  Whatever  may  have 
happened,"  said  they,  "  we  are  prepared  to  stand  a 
siege  ;  and  we  will  withstand  all  assaults  of  the  Sara- 
cans  till  the  Avarriors  we  expect  from  the  West  come 
to  our  relief." 

Finding  their  fo3S  so  determined,  and  probably 
unaware  of  the  weakness  of  the  garrison,  the  Saracens 
beat  a  retreat,  and  returned  to  Mansourah,  with  tidings 
that,  in  spite  of  all  calamities,  the  crusaders  were  too 
formidable  to  be  despised.  The  Christians  at  Damietta 
then  breathed  more  freely.  But  the  prospect  before 
Qieen  Margaret  and  those  who  shared  her  peril  was 
not  agreeable.  They  could  no  longer  doubt  that  the 
destruction  of  the  French  army  had  been  accomplished, 
since  they  had  seen  the  armor  and  ensigns,  and 
painted  devices,  of  the  crusaders  in  possession  of  the 
enemy  ;  and  the  hope  of  aid  from  Europe  was  indeed 
slender.  Besides,  their  strength  was  rapidly  failing, 
and  even  the  Queen's  high  spirit  could  hardly  have 
animated  them  to  renewed  exertions.     But,  while  the 


292    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

defenders  of  Damictta  were  looking  to  the  future  with 
apprehension,  events  occurred  which  startled  both  Asia 
and  Europe,  shook  the  empire  of  the  Sultan  to  its 
foundation,  and  opened  the  prison  doors  of  the  saintly 
King  and  his  faithful  knights. 


TUE    LAST    OF    THE    AYOUBITES.  293 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


THE    LAST    OF    THE    AYOUBITES. 

While  the  crusaders  were  still  encamped  on  both 
sides  of  the  Achmoum,  and  Bibars  Bendocdar  was  re- 
joicing with  his  Mamelukes  over  their  victory  at  Man- 
sourah,  Touran-Chah,  son  and  heir  of  Melikul-Salih, 
arrived  to  ascend  the  throne  of  Eg}'pt.  Unfortunately 
for  his  popularity,  the  new  Sultan  did  not  come  alone. 
With  him  from  Mesopotamia,  arrived  bands  of  favor- 
ites, who  immediately  displaced  the  ministers  of  his 
father,  and  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  Mamelukes. 
Complaints  and  reproaches  were  soon  heard.  "  You 
have  bestowed  the  spoils  of  the  vanquished  Franks," 
said  the  Mameluke  chiefs  to  the  Sultan,  "  not  on  those 
who  have  borne  the  burden  of  the  war,  but  on  men 
whose  sole  merit  consists  of  having  come  from  the 
banks  of  the  Euphrates  to  the  Nile.'" 

The  Sultan's  favorites  soon  became  aware  of  the 
jealousy  felt  towards  them.  Indeed,  the  feeling  was 
too  openly  manifested  to  escape  their  observation  ; 
and  they  were  guilty  of  no  delay  in  retaliating.  They 
knew  that  the  Sultan  was  already  weary  of  the  control 
of  the  Mameluke  chiefs,  and  hastened  to  avail  them- 
selves of  his  impatience.  "  You  have,  in  these  emirs, 
enemies  more  dangerous  than  the  Franks,"  said  they. 
20* 


294  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

'•  These  men  aspire  to  your  throne,  and  find  this  war 
favorable  to  their  designs.  Therefore  hasten  to  make 
peace,  that  you  may  strengthen  yourself  against  their 
efforts." 

Touran-Chah  listened  to  the  susjrestions  of  his 
courtiers ;  and,  flattered  by  their  speeches,  he  re- 
solved upon  showing  the  Mameluke  chiefs  how  little 
he  regarded  their  opinions.  Without  condescending 
to  consult  them,  he  sent  some  of  his  courtiers  to 
Louis,  and  empowered  them  to  treat  with  the  captive 
King. 

"  How  much  money,"  asked  the  ambassador,  "  will 
you  give  the  Sultan  for  your  ransom,  besides  restoring 
Damictta." 

"  If,"  answered  Louis,  "  the  Sultan  will  be  content- 
ed with  a  reasonable  ransom,  I  will  write  to  the  Queen 
to  pay  it  for  myself  and  my  army." 

"  But  why,"  asked  the  ambassador,  "  do  you  want 
to  write  to  the  Queen  ?  " 

"  Because,"  replied  Louis,  "  she  is  my  lady  and 
companion  ;  and  it  is  but  reasonable  that  she  should 
be  asked  for  her  consent." 

"  However,"  said  the  ambassador,  "  If  the  Queen 
will  pay  a  million  of  golden  bezants,  you  will  be 
freed." 

"  As  the  King  of  France,"  said  Louis  with  dignity, 
'•  I  cannot  be  ransomed  bv  money  :  but  Damietta  shall 

•'  ml  * 

be  given  for  my  freedom,  and  a  million  of  bezants  for 
that  of  my  army." 

After  some  negotiations,  the  terms  were  agreed  to 
on  both  sides  ;  and  the  French  knights  and  barons 
learned  that  the  King  had  ransomed  all  his  followers, 


THE    LAST    or    THE    AYOUBITES.  295 

both  rich  and  poor.  Arrangements  were  then  made 
for  restoring  the  crusaders  to  liberty  ;  and  four  galleys 
were  prepared  to  convey  the  chief  captives  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Nile.  On  reaching  Pharescour,  the 
King  and  his  brothers  were  placed  in  a  pavilion  ;  while 
the  knights,  among  whom  were  the  Count  of  Brittany, 
Philip  de  Montfort,  and  the  Sieur  de  Joinville,  re- 
mained on  board  the  galleys.  After  having  been 
more  than  a  month  in  fetters,  the  crusaders  were  natu- 
rally eager  to  be  free  ;  but  the  prospect  was  now  not 
distant.  It  was  the  Thursday  before  the  Feast  of  As- 
cension ;  and  the  Sultan  had  travelled  by  land  from 
Mansourah  with  the  object  of  receivmg  Damietta,  and 
performing  the  conditions  of  peace  on  Saturday.  Such 
was  the  state  of  affairs,  when  a  tragical  event,  utterly 
unexpected,  exposed  the  crusaders  to  new  dangers  and 
fresh  trials. 

The  Sultan,  it  appears,  had  erected  at  Pharescour, 
on  the  margin  of  the  Nile,  a  handsome  palace,  which 
the  chroniclers  of  the  period  have  fully  described.  The 
fearful  tragedy  of  which  it  was  the  scene  might  well 
impress  it  on  the  memory  of  the  crusaders.  At  the 
entrance  of  this  palace,  which  was  constructed  of 
poles  of  wood  covered  with  painted  cloth,  was  a  pa- 
vilion, where  the  emirs  left  their  swords  when  they  had 
audiences.  Beyond  this  pavilion  was  a  handsome 
gateway  leading  to  a  great  hall ;  and  adjoining  it  a 
tower,  by  which  they  ascended  to  the  Sultan's  cham- 
ber. In  front  of  the  palace  was  a  spacious  lawn,  in 
which  stood  a  tower  used  by  Touran-Chah  for  making 
observations,  and  an  alley  leading  to  the  river,  on  the 
edge  of  which  stood  a  summer-house,  formed  of  trellis- 


236  THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

work  and  covered  with  Indian  linen,  in  which  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  bathing. 

Touran-Chali,  on  arriving  at  Pharescour,  took  up 
his  residence  in  this  palace  on  the  Nile.  It  was  there 
he  received  congratulations  on  his  victory  over  the 
Franks  ;  and  there,  in  order  to  celebrate  a  triumph 
so  signal,  he  gave  a  great  banquet.  All  the  chief 
Moslem  warriors  were  present  on  the  occasion ;  and 
everything  went  quietly  and  ceremoniously  till  the 
feast  was  at  an  end.  No  sooner,  however,  did  the 
Sultan  rise  to  ascend  to  his  chamber,  than  his  guests 
rushed  furiously  towards  him.  Bibars  Bendocdar,  who 
bore  the  Sultan's  sword,  inflicted  a  blow,  which,  being 
})arried  by  the  hand,  cut  up  the  arm  between  the 
fingers. 

"  My  Lords,"  said  Touran-Chah,  "  I  complain  to 
you  against  this  man,  who  has  endeavored  to  kill  me  !  " 

"  Better  that  you  should  be  slain,"  they  all  replied, 
"  than  live  to  murder  us  as  you  intend  to  do,  when  in 
possession  of  Damietta." 

The  Sultan  was  amazed  and  terrified.  He  sprang 
to  liis  feet,  however,  and,  bounding  between  the  mo- 
tionless guards,  fled  to  the  tower  leading  to  his  cham- 
ber. But  the  conspirators  soon  convinced  him  that  his 
hopes  of  escape  were  vain. 

"  Come  down,"  they  cried ;  "  you  cannot  escape 
us." 

"  I  will  willingly  come  down,"  said  the  Sultan,  "  if 
you  will  assure  me  of  safety." 

"  We  will  force  you  to  descend,"  the  conspirators 
shouted;  and  they  prepared  to  assail  the  tower  with 
Greek  fire. 


THE    LAST    OF    THE    AYOUBITES.  297 

One  hope  still  remained  for  the  unfortunate  Sultan. 
That  was  to  rush  down  to  reach  the  Nile,  to  cast  him- 
self mto  the  water,  and  to  seek  refuge  on  board  some 
of  the  vessels  which  he  saw  anchored  near  the  shore. 
No  sooner,  therefore,  did  the  Greek  fire  catch  the  cloth 
and  timber,  than  he  descended  to  the  lawn  and  rushed 
from  the  blazing  tower.  "^'^  But,  quick  as  thought,  the 
conspirators  were  upon  him ;  and  Bibars  Bendocdar 
dealt  a  thrust,  so  stern,  that  his  sword  remained  stick- 
ing between  the  fugitive's  ribs.  Still  resisting  his  fate, 
The  Sultan  plunged  into  the  Nile,  but  nine  of  the  con- 
spirators, following  with  naked  swords,  killed  him  close 
to  one  of  the  galleys,  from  which  the  captive  crusaders 
witnessed  tbe  scene. 

All  this  time,  Louis  shut  up  in  a  pavilion  with 
his  brothers,  remained  utterly  unaware  of  what  was 
occurring.  Hearing  a  tumult,  however,  the  King 
supposed  either  that  Damietta  had  been  taken  or  that 
the  captive  crusaders  had  been  massacred.  While  he 
was  occupied  with  the  gloomiest  thoughts,  one  of  the 
Mamelukes  suddenly  entered  the  pavilion  with  blood 
on  his  hands. 

"  King,"  cried  the  Mameluke,  "  what  will  you  give 
me,  who  have  slain  an  enemy,  who,  had  he  lived, 
would  have  put  you  to  death  ?  "  Speak,"  he  contin- 
ued, seeing  that  Louis  did  not  answer.  "  Knowest 
thou  not  that  I  am  master  of  thy  hfe  ?  Make  me  a 
knight,  or  thou  art  a  dead  man." 

"  Make  thyself  a  Christian,"  answered  Louis,  "and 
I  will  make  thee  a  knight." 

^  "  The  whole  was  hi  a  blaze,"  says  Joinville;  "  auJ  I  prom- 
ise you  I  never  saw  so  fine  or  so  suddeu  a  bonfire." 


298    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEKS. 

The  ]\Iameluke,  on  hearing  this  withdrew.  The 
captive  King,  however,  soon  found  that  the  danger 
was  not  over.  Scarcely  had  the  candidate  for  knight- 
hood disappeared,  when  a  number  of  Saracens  entered 
the  pavihon,  and,  drawing  their  sabres,  threatened 
Louis  with  instant  destruction.  But  the  Christian  King 
was  proof  against  tlieir  menaces  ;  and  the  Saracens, 
impressed  with  the  dignity  of  his  demeanor  in  presence 
of  danger,  passed  suddenly  from  rage  to  wonder. 
After  offering  him  the  throne  of  Egypt,  they  retired 
in  respectful  silence. 

Meanwhile,  Saracens,  armed  with  swords  and  battle- 
axes,  rushed  on  board  the  galleys,  and  threatened  the 
French  knights  with  death.  No  hope  of  escape  pre- 
sented itself;  and  the  Christian  warriors,  preparing  for 
instant  execution,  confessed  themselves  hurriedly  to 
the  priests  or  to  each  other.  The  ]\Iamelukes,  however, 
were  afraid  to  proceed  to  further  bloodshed  ;  and  the 
crusaders,  after  passing  a  night  of  horrors,  found  that 
there  was  still  a  possibility  of  being  restored  to  their 
countries  and  their  homes.*^' 

Ere  this,  the  Mamelukes  had  completed  their  ven- 
geance.    After  stabbing  Touran-Chah   with   countless 


*"  We  were  confined  in  the  hold  of  the  galleys,"  says  Join- 
\ille,  "  and  laid  heads  and  heels  together.  AVe  thought  it  had 
been  so  oi'dered,  because  they  were  afraid  of  attacking  us  when 
we  were  in  a  body,  and  that  they  would  destroy  us  one  at  a  time. 
This  danger  lasted  the  Avhole  night.  I  had  my  feet  right  on  the 
face  of  the  Count  of  Brittany,  whose  feet  in  retumi,  were  beside 
my  fiice.  On  the  morrow  we  were  taken  out  of  the  hold;  and 
the  emirs  sent  to  inform  us  that  we  might  renew  ilie  treaties  Ave 
had  made  with  the  iSultau." 


THE    LAST    OF    THE    ATOtTBITES.  299 

wounds,  and  hacking  the  body  with  brutal  ferocity, 
they  tossed  the  mangled  remains  on  the  banks  of  the 
Nile.  At  first  it  appeared  that  even  sepulture  was  to 
be  refused  to  the  last  Sultan  of  Saladin's  line.  But 
the  Caliph's  envoy  interfered.  Having  obtained  per- 
mission, the  envoy  proceeded  to  perform  the  obsequies 
privately  ;  and,  after  lying  exposed  for  two  days,  the 
corpse  of  Touran-Chah  was  laid,  without  pomp,  in  an 
obscure  grave. 


300  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADErvS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    saint-king's    HETUKN. 

The  murderers  of  the  last  of  the  Ayoubites  havmg, 
after  much  hesitation,  arrived  at  the  decision  of  main- 
taining the  treaty  concluded  between  Touran-Chah  and 
the  King  of  France,  added  as  conditions,  that,  before 
being  set  at  liberty,  Louis  should  surrender  Damietta, 
and  that  before  leaving  the  Nile,  he  should  pay  half  of 
the  ransom. 

After  some  discussion  about  the  form  of  the  oaths  to 
be  taken  on  the  occasion,  for  the  observance  of  the 
treaty,  the  Christians  evacuated  Damietta.  On  Friday, 
Queen  Margaret,  and  the  Countesses  of  Anjou,  Poic- 
tiers,  and  Artois,  were  conveyed  on  board  a  Genoese 
galley ;  the  keys  of  the  city  were  delivered  to  the 
emirs  ;  and  next  morning  the  ]\Ioslem  standards  waved 
over  turret  and  tower. 

It  soon  appeared,  however,  that  the  crusaders  were 
not  out  of  danger.  Even  at  this  stage,  the  propriety 
of  putting  the  French  King  and  his  barons  to  death, 
was  gravely  discussed  in  an  assembly  of  emirs  ;  and 
only  one  of  them  advocated  the  maintenance  of  faith. 
The  voice  of  this  personage  would  soon  have  been 
drowned  in  the  tumult  ;  but,  fortunately  for  the  crusa- 
ders, he    used    one    argument  which  appealed    to  the 


THE    SATNT-KING's    RETURN.  301 

cupidity  of  his  audience.  "  You  may  put  these  Franks 
to  death  if  you  will,"  he  said  ;  "  but  before  doing  so, 
consider  the  consequence.    Dead  men  pay  no  ransom." 

This  argument  had  so  strong  an  effect  on  the  emirs, 
that  they  resolved  to  fulfil  the  treaty ;  and  the  galleys 
which  contained  Louis  and  the  companions  of  his  cap- 
tivity, were  ordered  to  Damietta.  The  gold  covenan- 
ted for  having  been  paid,  Louis,  attended  by  the  Count 
of  Anjou,  by  the  Count  de  Soissons,  and  the  Sieur  do 
Joinville,  went  on  board  a  Genoese  galley  ;  and  every 
difficulty  having  been  surmounted,  the  fleet,  bearing  the 
remains  of  the  Christian  army,  sailed  from  the  Nile. 
After  a  voyage  of  a  few  days,  the  crusaders  arrived 
at  Acre. 

Sad,  but  unsubdued,  Louis  remained  four  years  in 
Syria,  expecting  aid  from  Europe  to  prosecute  the 
Holy  War,  But  all  his  hopes,  in  this  respect,  proved 
vain.  His  nobles  deserted  the  oriflamme  to  return  to 
their  homes  ;  his  brother,  whom  he  had  sent  to  France 
to  bring  fresh  forces,  showed  no  eagerness  to  return  ; 
and  the  Pope  continued  too  busily  at  feud  with  the  po- 
tentates of  Europe,  to  make  any  efforts  on  behalf  of 
the  Christians  of  Asia. 

Meanwhile  the  captivity  of  Louis  caused  profound 
grief  among  his  subjects.  The  news  that  he  was  a 
prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  Saracens,  created  the  ut- 
most excitement  in  his  kingdom  ;  and  the  shepherds  of 
France,  vowing  to  rescue  him  from  the  hands  of  his 
enemies,  engaged  in  that  strange  enterprise  which 
forms  so  melancholy  a  chapter  in  the  history  of  the 
crusades. 

It   appears   that,  among    the  pastoral   population   of 
2G 


302  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEKS. 

France,  there  suddenly  appeared  a  man  bearing  a 
letter,  to  which  he  attached  a  mysterious  importance. 
"  This,"  said  he,  "  I  have  received  from  the  mother  of 
God  ;  and  it  commands  me  to  assemble  all  the  Chris- 
tian shepherds  and  herdsmen,  and  to  march  at  their 
head,  to  deUver  our  King.  Follow  me,  then  ;  for  the 
battle  is  not  to  the  strong,  but  reserved,  on  this  occa- 
sion, for  the  humble  and  the  weak." 

Fascinated  by  the  eloquence  and  mystery  of  this 
man,  the  shepherds  and  herdsmen  flocked  to  his  stand- 
ard :  and  his  army,  swelled  by  crowds  of  outlaws  and 
exiles,  assumed  formidable  proportions.  Even  Queen 
Blanche,  who  was  all  anxiety  for  her  son's  release, 
at  first  favored  the  enterprise  of  the  shepherds  ;  but 
the  priests,  aware,  perhaps,  that  the  leaders  had  ulterior 
objects  in  view,  set  their  faces  against  the  movement, 
and  speedily  brought  it  into  disrepute. 

Finding  the  church  hostile  to  their  projects,  the 
leaders  of  the  shepherds  endeavored  to  excite  the 
populace  against  the  priests,  and  moreover  avenged 
themselves  by  the  massacre  of  several  ecclesiastics. 
On  hearing  of  this  outrage.  Queen  Blanche  changed 
her  tone  ;  and  taking  part  against  the  shepherds,  de- 
termined on  their  suppression.  One  day,  accordingly, 
when  an  orator  of  their  body  was  declaiming,  with 
armed  men  around  for  his  protection,  an  executioner, 
employed  by  the  Queen,  suddenly  ghded  behind  the 
author  of  the  movement,  and  struck  off  his  head. 

Ere  the  shepherds  could  recover  from  the  horror 
caused  by  the  decapitation  of  their  leader,  a  body  of 
soldiers  rode  into  the  crowd,  and  put  them  to  tlic 
sword.     Nor  was  this  the  worst ;  for  the  peasantry, 


THE  saint-king's  keturn.  303 

who,  at  first,  had  held  the  shepherds  in  high  honor, 
suddenly  suspected  imposture,  and  slaughtered  them 
without  mercy. 

A  year  or  two  passed  over,  and  while  Louis  was 
still  in  the  Holy  Land,  he  received  intelligence  of  the 
death  of  Queen  Blanche.  This  caused  the  King  pro- 
found grief;  and  for  two  whole  days  he  remained  in 
his  chamber,  without  conversing  with  any  one.  On 
the  third,  however,  he  sent  for  Joinville,  and  immedi- 
ately entered  on  the  subject. 

"  Ah,  Seneschal  !  "  said  the  King,  mournfully,  "  I 
have  lost  my  mother." 

"  Sire,"  rephed  Joinville,  "  I  am  not  surprised  at  it  ; 
fo!'  you  know  death  must  come  sometime.  But  I  am 
surprised  that  so  great  a  prince  should  grieve  so  out- 
rageously ;  for  you  know.  Sire,  that  the  wise  man 
sayeth,  whatever  grief  the  valiant  man  suffers  in  his 
mind,  he  ought  not  to  show  it  on  his  countenance,  for 
he  that  does  so,  causes  pain  to  his  friends  and  pleasure 
to  his  foes." 

'^  Seneschal,"  said  a  lady  addressing  Joinville,  as  ho 
was  leaving  Louis,  "  I  entreat  you  to  wait  on  the 
Queen  to  comfort  her  ;  for  she  is  in  marvellous  great 
griei. 

"  Madam,"  said  Joinville,  as,  having  yielded  to  the 
request,  he  approached  Margaret  of  Provence,  who 
was  weeping  bitterly,  "  I  now  know  how  true  is  the 
old  proverb,  which  tells  us  never  to  believe  in  the 
tears  of  women  ;  for  all  the  lamentations  you  are  now 
making,  is  for  the  woman  whom  of  all  others  in  the 
world  you  loved  least." 

"  It  is  not  for  her  I  weep,  Seneschal,"  exclaimed  the 


301    THE    CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

ft 

Queen  ;  "  but  it  is  for  my  lord,  who  is  in  such  melan- 
choly, and  for  my  daughter,  who  will  now  be  left  to 
the  care  of  men." 

Soon  after  this  scene,  Louis  announced  his  intention 
of  returning  to  France  ;  and,  having  embarked  at  Acre, 
in  the  spring  of  1254,  he  set  sail  for  his  own  domin- 
ions. In  the  autumn  of  that  year,  the  Saint-king  ar- 
rived at  Vincennes ;  and  after  proceeding  to  St.  Denis 
and  prostrating  himself  before  the  altar,  made  his  entry 
into  Paris,  bearing  on  his  forehead  traces  of  the  sorrow 
caused  by  multiphcd  disasters. 


A    SULTAXA   AND    THE    MAMELUKES.  305 


BOOK  FOURTH. 
THE   LAST   STRUGGLE 


CHAPTER    I. 


A    SULTANA    AND    THE    MAMELUKES. 

In  the  year  1250,  when  the  assassination  of  Toiiran- 
Chah  put  an  end  to  the  Ayoubite  dynasty,  the  Mame- 
lukes were  at  a  loss  where  to  bestow  the  crown,  that 
had  for  a  century  been  worn  by  the  members  of  that 
house,  of  which  Saladin  was  the  greatest.  In  their 
perplexity,  they  bestowed  the  sovereignty  on  a  woman, 
named  Chegger-Eddour,  who,  having  originally  been 
brought  to  Cairo  as  merchandise,  and  purchased  by 
Melikul-Salih  as  a  slave,  had  been  elevated  by  her 
beauty  and  talent  to  the  position  of  favorite  Sultana. 
Accordingly,  they  proclaimed  her  "  Queen  of  the  Mus- 
sulmans," and  associated  with  her  in  the  government 
one  of  their  own  body,  named  Turcoman  ;  and  she, 
perhaps  to  prove  how  accommodating  she  was,  made 
matters  pleasant,  by  becoming  Turcoman's  wife. 

The  affairs  of  the  Sultana,  however,  were  not  des- 
tined to  go  quite  smoothly.  The  elevation  of  a  woman 
20* 


306  THE    CJIUSADES    AXD    THE    CKL'SADEES. 

to  the  Egyptian  throne,  filled  Moslems  with  amaze- 
ment ;  and  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad,  who  still  preserved 
a  shadow  of  power,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  sending 
the  Sultan  of  Egypt  a  rich  robe  by  way  of  investiture, 
aroused  himself  from  voluptuous  effeminacy,  and  asked, 
with  indignation,  if  a  man  capable  of  reigning  could 
not  be  found. 

Alarmed  at  the  discontent,  Chegger-Eddour  abdica- 
ted in  favor  of  Turcoman ;  and  Turcoman  ere  long 
found  that  he  had  put  on  a  thorny  crown.  No  sooner 
was  he  seated  on  the  throne,  than  a  conspiracy  was 
formed,  and  the  Sultan  was  in  danger  of  sharing  his 
predecessor's  fate.  Death,  however,  carried  off  his 
principal  adversary  ;  and  the  peril  appeared  to  have 
passed  over.  But,  unluckily,  Turcoman  at  this  crisis 
was  indiscreet  enough  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  an 
eastern  princess  ;  and  his  spouse  giving  way  to  anger, 
swore  to  be  avenged. 

The  vengeance  of  the  Sultana  did  not  sleep.  Soon 
after  Turcoman  had  aroused  her  jealousy,  one  of  his 
chief  emirs  was  summoned  at  midnight  to  the  palace. 
On  hastening  thither,  the  Emir  presented  himself  in 
the  chamber  of  Chegger-Eddour,  and  found  her  seated 
with  one  foot  resting  on  the  bleedmg  body  of  her  hus- 
band. The  Emir,  astonished  at  the  spectacle,  uttered 
a  cry  of  horror ;  but  the  Sultana  calmly  asked  him  to 
be  seated,  and  pointed  to  a  place  by  her  side.  Terror- 
struck,  the  Emir  was  turning  away,  when  she  stated 
that  she  had  commanded  his  presence  in  order  to  offer 
him  her  hand  and  her  empire.  Overcome  with  fear, 
the  Einir  fled  from  the  palace. 

When  news  crept  through  Cairo  that  the  Sultan, 


A    SULTANA    AND    THE    MAMELUKES.  307 

while  in  a  bath,  had  been  assassinated  bv  order  of  his 
spouse,  much  indignation  was  manifested ;  and  the 
mother  of  the  murdered  man  prepared  to  avenge  his 
death.  Her  measures  were  soon  taken.  Chegger- 
Eddour  was  put  to  death  by  slaves,  and  her  corpse 
cast  into  the  ditch  that  surrounded  the  palace. 

Amid  the  excitement  caused  by  such  startling  scenes 
of  horror,  news  that  the  Tartars  had  taken  Bagdad, 
seized  the  Caliph,  and  immured  him  amid  his  treasures 
to  die  of  hunger,  aroused  the  Mamelukes  to  energy  ; 
and  they  elected  as  Sultan  an  Emir  whom  they  deemed 
qualified  by  courage  and  talent,  to  front  the  peril  that 
menaced  their  empire. 

The  name  of  the  new  Sultan  was  Koutouz ;  and, 
being  a  Mameluke,  confident  and  brave,  he  placed  him- 
self at  the  head  of  his  army,  encountered  the  Tartars 
at  Tiberas,  and  impressed  them  with  so  high  an  idea 
of  his  power,  that  they  retreated  from  Syria.  Unfor- 
tunately for  Koutouz,  he  happened,  while  in  the  vicinity 
of  Acre,  to  renew  a  truce  with  the  Christians  ;  and 
this  moderation  was  regarded  by  the  Mamelukes  with 
so  much  dislike,  that  they  conspired  to  effect  his  ruin. 

One  day,  while  the  Sultan's  victorious  army  lay  at 
Sallhie,  and  when  Koutouz  had  ridden  forth  to  divert 
himself  with  hunting,  a  Mameluke,  stained  with  blood, 
spurred  into  the  camp,  presented  himself  to  the  officer 
in  command,  and  announced  that  the  Sultan  was  no 
more. 

"  Koutouz  is  slain,"  said  he  in  a  tone  of  calm  confi- 
dence. 

"  Koutouz  slain  1  "  exclaimed  the  officer  ;  "  who 
killed  him  \  " 


30^    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

"  It  was  I,"  answered  the  Mameluke  coolly. 

"  In  that  case,"  said  the  other,  "  you  had  better 
reign  iii  liis  stead." 

The  Mameluke  chief  who  had  slain  Koutouz  was 
Bibars  Bendocdar,  and  he  was  guilty  of  no  hesitation  at 
tliis  crisis.  Having  been  nominated  by  the  Sultan's 
lieutenant  as  successor  to  the  man  whom  he  had  mur* 
dered,  the  bold  Mameluke  was  proclaimed  by  the  army, 
and  enthroned  at  Cairo. 

No  sooner  had  Bibars  Bendocdar  made  a  vow  to 
complete  the  ruin  of  the  Franks,  than  he  rendered  his 
name  terrible  ;  indeed,  the  Christians  were  speedily 
reduced  to  humility.  After  having  seen  their  country 
repeatedly  ravaged,  without  offering  any  resistance, 
they  sent  to  implore  peace.  Without  deigning  an 
answer,  Bibars  seized  Nazareth,  and  gave  its  church 
to  the  flames  ;  ravaged  the  country  between  Nain  and 
Mount  Tabor,  besieged  and  took  Ceserea,  seized 
Arsouf,  took  Jaffa,  and  sacked  and  burned  Antioch. 
Everywhere  the  Sultan  exercised  the  utmost  cruelty. 
The  mhabitants  of  the  conquered  cities  were  put  to 
the  sword,  or  sold  as  slaves  ;  the  Mamelukes  reserving 
as  their  portion  the  women,  girls,  and  cliildren.  "  There 
was  not  the  slave  of  a  slave,"  says  the  Arabian  Chron- 
icler, "  that  was  not  the  master  of  a  slave."  Nothing 
now  remained  to  the  Christians  but  Acre  and  Tripoli. 

Full  accounts  of  the  Sultan's  exploits  reached  Eu- 
rope by  means  of  the  two  Grand  Masters  and  the 
Archbishop  of  Tyre,  who  repaired  to  the  West  to 
implore  aid.  The  crusades,  however,  had  hitherto 
been  attended  with  so  little  success,  that  few  had  any 
inclination  to  take  the  cross  ;  and  the  Pope   was  too 


A    SULTANA    AND    THE    MAMELUKES.  309 

intent  on  the  destruction  of  the  House  of  Suabia,  to 
ieel  any  overpowering  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  East- 
ern Christians.  Nevertheless,  their  deplorable  plight 
moved  compassion ;  and  the  King  of  Arragon  sent 
ambassadors  to  Cairo  to  demand  peace  for  his  breth- 
ren. But  Bibars  Bendocdar  treated  the  messages  of 
the  King  of  Arragon  with  scorn  ;  and,  remembering 
what  the  French  had  suffered  at  Damietta,  ridiculed 
the  notion  of  any  European  prince  coming  to  aid  the 
Christians  of  Syria. 


310  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    II. 


THE    CONQUEROR    OF    ETESHAiT. 

At  the  time  when  Bibars  Bendocdar  was  pursuing 
his  victorious  career  in  Palestine,  there  was  often  seen 
in  England,  riding  about  the  country  with  dogs  and 
falcons,  and  enthusiastically  engaged  in  field  sports, 
as  if  for  him  life  had  no  other  attraction,  a  prince,  in 
his  twenty-eighth  year,  whose  presence  seldom  failed 
to  command  admiration.  His  complexion  was  fair  ; 
his  hair  light  brown  ;  his  expression  frank ;  his  fea- 
tures regular;  his  brow  marked  with  thought ;  and  his 
eye  bright  with  genius.  But  what  most  struck  the 
beholder  was  his  grand  stature  ;  for  he  was  taller  by 
the  head  and  shoulders  than  ordinary  men ;  and  his 
hmbs,  which  were  elegantly  proportioned,  had  been 
trained  to  the  endurance  of  fatigue  in  forests,  in  tilt- 
yards,  and  on  battle-fields.  He  was  Edward  Plan- 
tagenet,  eldest  son  of  the  third  Henry  and  Eleanor  of 
Provence ;  and  husband  of  a  fair  princess,  afterwards 
well-beloved  by  the  English  people  as  Eleanor  of 
Castille. 

However  absorbed  Prince  Edward  might  appear  in 
hunting  and  hawking,  he  had,  in  his  day,  been  engaged 
in  business  more  serious  than  chasing  the  deer  at  Wind- 
sor, or    flying  his  falcons  at  Eltham.     At  an  earlier 


THE  CONQUEROR  OF  ETESHAM.        311 

period,  while  his  chief  dehght  was  frequenting  tourna- 
ments and  exhibiting  his  prowess  in  the  hsts,  lie  had 
been  summoned  from  the  Continent  to  aid  in  defending 
the  English  throne  against  Simon  de  Montfort  and  the 
Anglo-Norman  nobles,  and  he  had  taken  an  energetic 
part  in  that  fierce  struggle  known  as  "  The  Barons' 
War." 

Montfort,  second  son  of  that  Simon  de  Montfort  who 
figured  so  conspicuously  in  the  war  against  the  Albi- 
genses,  was,  in  right  of  his  mother,  Earl  of  Leicester  ; 
and,  having  been  banished  from  France  for  disturbing 
the  government  of  Queen  Blanche,  he  found  refuge  in 
England,  and  won  the  hand  of  Henry's  sister,  the 
widowed  Countess  of  Pembroke.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  JNIontfort  become  the  brother-in-law  of  Henry, 
when  disputes  arose ;  and,  as  years  passed  on,  the 
Earl  became  the  King's  mortal  foe. 

Henry  the  Third,  a  weak  though  well-meaning  man, 
had  surrounded  the  English  throne  with  so  many  of 
his  wife's  continential  kinsmen  and  his  own,  that  a  cry 
was  raised  by  the  Anglo-Norman  barons  that  the  land 
was  devoured  by  aliens.  Ere  long,  the  clergy,  the 
citizens,  and  the  populace  manifested  their  sympathy 
with  the  baronial  prejudices,  and  the  discontent  became 
deep  and  general.  At  length  the  King  and  the  barons 
appealed  to  the  sword  ;  and,  after  the  struggle  had 
been  maintained  for  years  by  skirmishes  and  sieges, 
they  met  on  the  14th  of  May,  1264,  to  decide  their 
quarrel,  at  Lewes,  in  Sussex. 

At  Lewes,  Edward,  then  in  his  twenty-fifth  year, 
commanded  the  King's  cavalry,  and,  mounted  on  his 
celebrated  steed  Gray  Lyard,  commenced  the  battle 


312         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

by  charging  so  vehemently,  that  he  dispersed  Mont- 
fort's  van,  to  which  he  was  opposed  ;  and,  coming  into 
contact  with  the  mihtia  of  London,  chased  the  burgher- 
soldiers  from  the  field  so  fiercely,  that  they  never 
halted  in  their  flight  till  they  found  safety  at  Croydon. 
On  returning  to  Lewes,  however,  the  prince  discovered 
how  great  had  been  his  imprudence.  Montfort  had 
meanwhile  won  a  complete  victory  ;  King  Henry,  and 
Richard  Earl  of  Cornwall,  who  since  his  crusade  had 
been  elected  King  of  the  Romans,  were  his  prisoners. 

Undaunted  at  this  mortifying  circumstance,  Edward 
challenged  Montfort  to  another  field.  But  Simon 
treated  the  Prince's  bravado  with  contempt.  "  If," 
said  he,  "  Sire  Edward  attempts  more  mischief,  T  will 
cause  the  heads  of  the  captives  to  be  struck  off,  placed 
on  lances'  points,  and  carried  as  ensigns  for  our  army." 
In  great  alarm,  Edward  and  his  cousin,  Henry  of  Corn- 
wall, surrendered  to  save  their  father ;  and  the  Prince 
was  sent  to  the  castle  of  Dover. 

Montfort  now  called  a  Parliament  to  confirm  his 
power  ;  but  that  assembly,  contrary  to  his  expectation, 
passed  an  order  for  the  liberation  of  Edward.  The 
Prince  was  in  consequence  removed  from  Dover  Cas- 
tle ;  but,  in  spite  of  Parliament,  Montfort,  who  feared 
Edward's  genius,  treated  him  as  a  prisoner. 

It  happened,  however,  that  Montfort's  sons  gave 
mortal  offence  to  Gilbert  de  Clare,  the  young  Earl  of 
Gloucester,  who  was  their  father's  chief  ally.  Upon 
this,  Gloucester,  who,  as  the  most  powerful  of  English 
nobles,  was  jealous  of  Montfort's  supremacy,  resolved 
on  changing  sides,  and  opened  a  correspondence  with 
Roger  de  Mprtimer,  who   had  already  been  won  over 


THE    CONQUEROR    OF    EYESHAM.  313 

to  the  royal  cause  by  the  entreaties  of  his  wife. 
Emboldened  by  Gloucester's  communication,  Mor- 
timer sent  Edward  a  swift  steed,  with  a  secret  message 
to  make  his  escape  at  a  given  signal. 

Meanwhile,  Montfort,  carrying  the  King  and  the 
Prince  in  his  train,  had  moved  westward  to  punish 
Gloucester  for  his  change  of  sides,  and  kept  his  court 
during  Whitsun  week  within  the  walls  of  Hereford. 
One  day,  while  Montfort  was  in  council  with  his 
friends,  he  was  informed  that  the  Prince  had  es- 
caped. "  Escaped  !  "  exclaimed  Montfort ;  "  then  by 
St.  James's  arm,  he  will  find  us  work  to  do." 

A  great  battle  being  now  inevitable,  the  trumpet  of 
war  roused  England  to  arms,  and  fighting-men  gathered 
to  the  hostile  standards.  A  campaign,  which  excited 
breathless  interest,  was  the  consequence  ;  and  the 
Prince  and  his  more  experienced,  but  far  less  gifted 
foe,  exerted  all  their  skill  as  war-chiefs.  For  a  time 
Montfort  was  confident  of  a  crowning  triumph  ;  but  at 
length  every  delusion  vanished. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  4th  of  August,  1265,  and 
Montfort  lay  in  the  abbey  of  Evesham,  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  his  son  Simon,  who  had  been  raising  a  force 
in  Yorkshire,  when  informed  that  an  army  was  ap- 
proaching. 

"  My  son,  doubtless,"  said  Montfort. 

"  Alas !  great  Earl,"  was  the  answer,  "  it  is  not 
your  son  who  comes,  but  your  foe." 

"  Then,"  exclaimed  Montfort  mournfully,  "  may  the 
Lord  have  mercy  on  our  souls  ,  for  our  bodies  are 
Prince  Edward's." 

No  time  now  remained   for   farther  discussion  ;  and 
27 


314  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

Montfort,  obliged  to  hazard  a  battle,  drew  up  his  army 
in  a  large  field  near  the  town  of  Evesham, mid,  placing 
his  men  in  a  cn*cular  form,  prepared  for  a  struggle. 
The  baronial  army,  composed  for  the  most  part  of 
nobles  and  their  retainers,  was  certain  to  make  a  des- 
perate resistance  ;  and  the  oligarch  could  not  be  alto- 
gether without  hope  of  adding  a  decisive  triumph  to 
his  many  victories. 

But  whatever  Montfort's  anticipations,  the  day 
opened  inauspiciously  for  his  party  ;  for  the  Earl  had 
placed  his  Welsh  allies  in  front,  and  when  Edward, 
mounted  on  Gray  Lyard,  the  good  steed  on  which 
he  "  ever  charged  forward,"  came  upon  them  at  the 
head  of  his  knights,  the  Celtic  warriors  fled  as  hastily 
from  Evesham  as  the  Londoners  had  done  from  Lewes. 
Still  Montfort's  array  was  most  formidable ;  and  tlie 
Earl,  showing  himself  a  grim  champion  on  that,  his 
last  field,  several  times  repulsed  Edward's  fiery  charge. 
But  there  could  exist  little  doubt  how  the  day  would 
terminate. 

After  the  conflict  had  lasted  for  hours,  the  sky  was 
suddenly  overcast ;  the  lightning  flashed ;  and  the 
thunder  rolled  ;  and  Montfort's  heart  failed  him. 
However,  he  made  a  last  desperate  effort  to  baffle 
fortune ;  but  his  horse  was  killed  under  him,  and 
his  eldest  son  slain  by  his  side. 

"  Is  there  any  quarter  for  us  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  What  grace  for  such  a  traitor  >  "  was  the  reply. 

"  Then,"  exclaimed  Montfort,  "  May  God  have 
mercy  on  our  souls,  "  and  with  these  words  he  fell, 
sword  in  hand,  amidst  a  host  of  foes. 

Having  won  the  battle   of  Evesham,  Edward  used 


THE    CONQUEBOR    OF    EVESHA.M.  315 

his  victory  with  singular  moderation,  prevented  any 
blood  from  being  shed  on  the  scaffold,  and  exerted  his 
influence  with  so  much  effect  to  save  the  vanquished, 
that  many  foes  were  converted  into  friends.  Distur- 
bances, nevertheless,  broke  out ;  for  Gilbert  de  Clare, 
Earl  of  Gloucester,  discontented  with  his  share  of  the 
victory,  and  the  citizens  of  London,  enraged  at  being 
deprived  of  their  charter,  formed  an  alliance,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  fearful  excesses.  At  Alnwick,  also,  John 
de  Vesci  held  out  for  the  barons. 

Edward,  not  dismayed  by  the  menacing  aspect  of 
affairs,  boldly  faced  the  insurrections  in  the  south, 
and  succeeded  in  suppressing  them,  and  bringing 
Gloucester  to  submission. 

After  bringing  the  Red  de  Clare  and  the  Londoners 
to  reason,  Edward  went  northward  to  besiege  the 
castle  of  Alnwick.  Reduced  to  the  utmost  perplexity, 
John  de  Vesci  yielded,  and  submitted  to  the  mercy  of 
his  conqueror.  Edward  talked  to  the  vanquished 
baron  with  that  frank  courtesy,  which  seldom  failed  to 
win  manly  hearts ;  and  De  Vesci  became  one  of  his 
most  favored  knights. 

It  was  when  Edward  had  just  accomplished  the 
pacification  of  England,  that  Ottobon,  cardinal-deacon 
of  the  title  of  St.  Adrian,  was  sent  to  England  as 
papal  legate,  and  appeared  in  London  to  preach  a 
crusade. 


316  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADERS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE    SAINT-KING    IN    OLD   AGE. 

At  the  time  wiien  Bibars  Bendocdar  was  slaying 
and  ravafrinn;  in  Syria,  and  when  Edward  Plantagenet 
was  hunting  and  hawking  in  England,  Louis,  King  of 
France,  summoned  his  barons  to  Paris. 

The  peers  and  prelates  of  France,  thus  invited  to 
meet  the  King,  assembled,  in  March,  1267,  in  a  hall 
of  the  Louvre  ;  and  Louis,  then"  in  his  fifty-fourth 
year,  having  entered  with  a  crown  of  thorns  in  his 
hand,  expatiated  on  the  sufferings  of  the  Christians  of 
Syria,  expressed  his  resolution  of  going  to  their  relief, 
and  exhorted  all  to  take  the  cross.  A  cardinal,  who 
was  present  as  papal  legate,  seconded  the  King's  ex- 
hortation ;  and  having  exerted  all  his  eloquence  to 
rouse  the  warriors  of  France,  he  presented  the  cross 
to  Louis  and  three  of  those  princes  of  whom  Margaret 
of  Provence  had  made  the  saintly  monarch  father. 
At  the  same  time,  the  cardinal  received  the  oaths  of  a 
number  of  knif^hts  and  nobles. 

The  calamities  of  the  expedition  to  Damietta  had 
not  been  forgotten  by  the  French  nation  ;  and  it  ap- 
pears that  the  determination  expressed  by  Louis  was 
heard  with  surprise  and  grief  by  the  assembled  mag- 
nates.    In  the  Kmg's  presence,  respect  for  his  sanctity 


THE    SAINT-KING    IN    OLD    AGE.  317 

prevented  men  from  raising  objections  ;  but  when  his 
back  was  turned,  regrets  and  apprehensions  were 
freely  expressed. 

"  Those  who  have  advised  the  King  to  this  cru- 
sade," exclaimed  one  knight,  "  have  been  guilty  of  a 
crime  !  " 

"  This  day,"  said  a  second,  "  will  prove  one  of  the 
most  fatal  France  ever  witnessed." 

"  If  we  consent  to  take  the  cross,"  said  a  third,  "  we 
are  the  King's  ruin." 

"  And,"  remarked  a  fourth,  "  if  we  take  the  cross, 
we  lose  God's  grace  ;  for  we  do  not  tcike  the  cross  for 
tlie  sake  of  Christ." 

Joinville  was  among  those  present  at  Paris  on  the 
occasion  ;  and  he  was  strongly  urged  by  the  princes 
to  embark  for  the  East  a  second  time.  But  Joinville 
remembered  all  the  horrors  endured  twenty  years 
earlier,  and  firmly  resisted.  "  When  I  was  before 
beyond  the  sea  on  the  service  of  God,"  he  said,  "  the 
King's  ofRcers  so  grievously  oppressed  my  people, 
that  they  were  reduced  to  poverty.  We  have  had 
great  difnculty  in  recovering  ourselves  ;  and  I  see 
clearly  that  were  I  to  undertake  another  crusade,  it 
would  be  our  ruin." 

Notwithstanding  the  discontent  created  in  France 
by  the  new  crusade,  the  King  commenced  prepara- 
tions and  fixed  the  time  for  his  departure.  Having 
raised  money  to  defray  the  expenses,  he  hired  ships 
from  the  republic  of  Genoa,  and  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  sailing  from  France  in  the  summer  of  1270. 

About  the  time  when  Louis  was  making  his  prepa- 
rations, his   brother,  Charles   of  Anjou,   had   been    in- 

27* 


318    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CKUSADERS. 

vested  by  the  Pope  with  the  sovereignty  of  Sicily. 
Pretending,  as  King  of  Sicily,  to  all  the  rights  enjoyed 
by  the  old  Emperors  of  Germany,  Charles  claimed  an 
annual  tribute  from  Tunis,  on  the  western  coast  of 
Africa.  Not  being  in  a  position  to  compel  payment 
without  aid,  and  catching  at  the  idea  of  turning  the 
swords  of  the  crusaders  to  account,  he  represented  to 
Louis  that  the  surest  way  to  conquer  the  Holy  Land 
was  to  begin  with  Tunis. 

Louis  readily  entered  into  the  scheme.  In  fact,  the 
King  of  Tunis  had  more  than  once  sent  ambassadors 
to  Paris,  to  declare  that  conversion  to  the  Christian 
faith  was  his  dearest  wish  ;  and  Louis  had  frequently 
stated,  that  he  would  consent  to  pass  his  life  in  cap- 
tivity, if,  by  such  a  sacrifice,  he  could  bring  the  Moor- 
ish prince  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

Meanwhile,  the  projected  expedition  of  Louis  created 
much  excitement  throughout  Europe,  and  the  Kings  of 
Castillo,  Arragon,  Navarre,  and  Portugal,  took  the 
cross.  At  the  same  time,  the  Earls  of  Brittany  and 
Flanders,  the  Counts  of  Eu,  Champagne,  Artois,  La 
Marche,  and  Soissons,  with  the  Seigneurs  de  Mont- 
morency, Nemours,  and  Brienne,  swore  to  combat  the 
infidel. 

Bibars  Bendocdar  must  have  paused  in  alarm,  when 
intelligence  of  the  preparations  making  for  his  destruc- 
tion reached  his  ears.  It  was  not  ordered,  however, 
that  the  bold  Sultan  should  meet  these  European  kings 
and  princes  in  the  shock  of  war.  Scarcely  one  of 
them,  indeed,  had  any  wish  to  reach  the  land  they  had 
vowed  to  save.  But  there  was  still  hope  for  the  Chris- 
tians of  the  East.    A  few  hundred  Anglo-Norman  war- 


THE    SAINT-KING    IN    OLD    AGE.  319 

riors  were  stitching  crosses  of  red  silk  on  their  mantles, 
and  preparing  to  charge  the  Saracens  in  the  chain 
armor  in  which  they  had  fought  at  Lewes  and  at 
Evesham. 


320         THE    CRUSADES    AND    TKE    CliUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


PKINCE    EDWARD    AXD    HIS    KXIGHTS. 

About  the  time  when  the  conqueror  of  Evesham 
had  accomphshed  the  pacification  of  England,  King 
Louis  sent  messengers  begging  Edward  to  grant  him 
an  interview  on  business  of  importance,  and  tlie  Prince, 
without  delay,  travelled  to  Paris  to  meet  his  royal 
relative. 

"  Sire  Edward,"  said  King  Louis,  embracing  the 
English  Prince  as  the  latter  presented  liimself  to  the 
royal  Saint,  "  you  know  that  I  intend  returning  to  the 
Holy  Land,  and  I  have  sent  for  you  to  express  my 
wish  to  have  such  a  comrade  in  chastising  the  pagans." 

"  My  Lord,"  said  Edward  frankly,  "  you  know  that 
the  substance  of  England  has  been  entirely  consumed 
during  the  war  between  King  £md  Barons ;  and  my 
means  are  too  small  to  enter  upon  such  an  enterprise 
m  your  company." 

"But,"  said  Louis,  "  I  will  lend  you  thirty  thousand 
marks  of  good  money,  or,  in  fact,  I  will  give  you  that 
sum,  if  you  will  meet  my  wishes." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Edward,  "•  I  see  no  impediment 
to  my  accompanying  you." 

After  this  interview  with  Louis,  Edward  returned 
to  England  ;  and  Ottobon,  the  papal  legate,  in  a  coun- 


PRINCE    EDWARD   AND    IIIS    KNIGHTS.  321 

cil  held  at  Northampton,  exhorted  the  faithful  to  save 
what  remained  of  the  Christian  kingdom  in  the  East. 
At  the  same  time  the  cross  was  solemnly  taken  hy 
Edward  and  his  brother  Edmund,  Earl  of  Lancaster, 
as  also  by  Gilbert  de  Clare,  Earl  of  Gloucester,  and 
many  other  knights  and  nobles. 

The  Papal  Legate  having  conferred  the  cross  on  a 
hundred  and  twenty  English  knights,  and  the  Francis- 
can friars  having  persuaded  many  persons  of  inferior 
rank  to  assume  the  sacred  badge,  Edward  devoted 
his  whole  attention  to  preparations  for  the  voyage. 
Louis  agreed  to  furnish  Edward  with  thirty  thousand 
marks ;  and  Edward  mortgaged  to  Louis  the  customs 
of  Bordeaux  for  seven  years.  The  royal  Saint,  in- 
deed, appears  to  have  driven  a  hard  bargain,  and  to 
have  required  ample  security.  Not  only  did  he  require 
King  Henry  to  sign  the  bond  for  repayment,  but  he 
stipulated  that  in  the  event  of  its  not  being  refunded, 
he  should  be  at  liberty  to  seize  all  Edvvard''s  goods 
within  the  realm  of  France.  The  Warrior-prince, 
of  course,  submitted,  as  poor  men  are  in  the  habit  of 
doing  under  such  circumstances,  and  no  doubt  rejoiced 
to  receive,  on  any  terms,  what  must  have  appeared  to 
him  an  amount  quite  the  reverse  of  insignificant. 

At  the  same  time,  a  sum  of  money  reached  Edward 
from  a  quarter,  whence  it  might  least  have  been 
expected.  Between  the  Prince  and  the  democracy 
of  London,  no  approaches  to  reconciliation  had  yet 
been  made.  The  quarrel,  in  truth,  was  somewhat 
serious,  and  the  injuries  somewhat  deep.  The  citizens 
had  attempted  to  drown  the  Prince's  mother  at  London 
Bridge  ;  and  the   Prince   had  on   the  downs  at  Lewes 


322         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

marked  out  their  militia  as  the  object  of  his  fiercest 
attack.  Edward,  however,  was  far  too  great  a  man  to 
bear  mahce  towards  inferiors ;  and  he  was  far  too 
proud  to  deem  a  deluded  democracy  worthy  of  his 
vengeance.  Before  leaving  England,  therefore,  he 
strongly  recommended  the  King  to  restore  the  city's 
charter ;  and  Henry,  after  some  manifestations  of 
reluctance,  listened  to  reason.  The  charter  was  ac- 
cordingly restored ;  and  the  citizens  evinced  their 
gratitude  to  the  Prince  by  contributing  five  hundred 
marks  towards  the  expense  of  the  crusade. 

This  dispute  having  been  settled.  King  Henry,  on 
the  4th  of  August,  1270,  held  a  Parliament  at  Win- 
chester, and  with  much  solemnity,  delivered  to  Edward 
the  cross  which  he  himself  had  taken  years  before,  and 
which  he  had  since  worn.  At  the  same  time,  the 
barons  present  acknowledged  Edward's  son  John  as 
heir  to  the  crown,  in  the  event  of  the  Warrior-prince 
falling  in  the  East,  and  the  King  of  the  Romans  was 
appointed  guardian  of  the  royal  boy.  Everything 
being  thus  arranged,  the  Prince  prepared  to  set  forth. 

Years  before  this  period,  Edward  had  espoused 
Eleanor  of  Castillo,  sister  of  that  wise  Alphonso,  who 
occupies  so  conspicuous  a  place  in  the  history  of  Span- 
ish law  and  literature.  This  Princes^  was  one  of  the 
most  admirable  beings  in  Christendom,  and  as  beautiful 
as  she  was  good.  A  woman  of  twenty-five,  with  long 
i"ich  tresses  clustering  over  a  brow  that  beamed  with 
intelligence,  or  falling  in  waves  over  shoulders  fair  and 
faultless  ;  a  swan-like  neck  ;  an  eye  rendered  thought- 
ful by  the  clouds  that  had  hung  over  her  husband's 
fortunes ;     delicate    features,    through     which    shone 


PEINCE    EDWARD    AXD    HIS    KNIGHTS.  323 

sweetness  of  temper,  frequently  lighted  up  with  a 
serene  smile  ;  a  form  somewhat  tall  and  singularly 
graceful ;  a  manner  grave,  serious,  and  with  something 
of  that  solemnity,  which  centuries  of  intercourse  with 
the  Moors  had  communicated  with  the  inhabitants  of 
her  native  land  ;  such  was  Eleanor  of  Castille  at  tho 
time  when  her  husband  was  about  to  fare  forth  to  fi^ht 
beneath  the  cross  in  Palestine. 

When  Edward  was  preparing  to  depart,  men  of 
experience  strongly  recommended  Eleanor  to  remain 
at  home  ;  but  the  Princess  took  a  different  view  of  her 
duty. 

"  Consider,  they  said,  "  what  are  the  dangers  of  a 
crusade,  and  recall  the  peril  to  which  other  ladies  have 
been  exposed," 

"  Speak  not  to  me  of  dangers !  "  exclaimed  Eleanor 
with  animation  ;  "  nothing  ought  to  part  those  whom 
God  has  joined  ;  and  the  way  to  heaven  is  as  near  from 
Syria  as  from  England  or  my  native  Castillo." 

Eleanor  remained  firm  in  her  determination  to  cross 
the  Channel,  and,  on  the  5th  of  August,  Edward  bade 
King  Henry  adieu  ;  and  the  father  and  son  parted, 
never  to  meet  again  on  earth.  On  leaving  Winches- 
ter, the  intention  of  the  Prince  was  to  embark  at  Ports- 
mouth, and  pass  through  Spain,  with  a  view  of  holding 
an  interview  with  his  brother-in-law,  Alphonso  of 
Castillo  ;  but,  the  winds  proving  contrary,  and  much 
time  being  lost,  he  abandoned  the  idea,  and  turned 
aside  to  embark  at  Dover. 

It  was  the  20th  of  August,  1270,  when  Edward 
left  the  shores  of  England  ;  nor  was  the  heir  of  the 
Plantagenets  unworthily  attended.     Gloucester's  proud 


324  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADERS. 

Earl  did  not,  indeed,  appear  ;  but  warriors  as  gallant 
as  ever  sailed  for  Palestine  arrayed  themselves  under 
Edward's  banner.  Amons;  them  were  Edward  of* 
Lancaster,  and  Henry  of  Cornwall,  Roger  de  Clifford, 
William  de  Valence,  Thomas  de  Clare,  John  de  Gour- 
ney,  Robert  de  Tip  to  ft,  Walter  de  Molesworth,  John 
de  Vesci  (Edward's  favorite  knight),  Robert  de  Burnel 
(destined,  in  after  years,  to  figure  as  his  great  minister), 
and  Robert  de  Brus,  father  of  the  Hero-king  of  Scots. 
Nor  was  Scotland  unrepresented  among  that  martial 
chivalry.  From  the  north  of  the  Tweed  had  come  a 
gallant  band,  conspicuous  among  whom  were  David, 
Earl  of  Athol,  and  Adam,  Earl  of  Carrick.  What 
wonder  if  these  crusaders  went  forth  with  high  hopes ! 
Young,  ardent,  and  enthusiastic,  led  by  a  captain  who 
had  struck  down  a  mighty  oligarchy,  and  filled  Europe 
with  the  fame  of  his  knightly  exploits,  they  might  well 
cherish  the  hope  of  accomplishing  something  worthy 
of  being  recorded  by  chroniclers  and  celebrated  by 
minstrels. 

The  mariners  hauled  up  their  anchors,  and  spread 
their  sails  ;  and  the  English  crusaders  left  the  white 
cliffs  of  their  native  shore  behind.  It  appears  that 
Edward  hoped  to  make  so  quick  a  journey  as  to  over- 
take King  Louis  before  that  royal  crusader  embarked  ; 
but  after  meeting  the  Princess  who  had  preceded  him 
to  the  continent,  and  travelling  through  France  and 
along  the  borders  of  Spain,  our  great  Prince  learned 
that  Louis  had  ah'eady  sailed,  and  also,  doubtless  to 
his  surprise,  that  the  Saint-king,  instead  of  embarking 
for  Syria,  as  arranged,  had  intimated  his  intention  of 
proceeding  to   Tunis.     Trusting   still   to  join   the  King 


PRINCE    EDWARD    AND    HIS    KNIGHTS.  3*25 

of  France,  ere  anything  great  had  been  accom- 
plished, Edward,  though  perhaps  not  much  relishing 
such  a  voyage,  directed  his  course  towards  the  Af- 
rican coast. 


28 


326  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE    FRENCH    AT    TUNIS. 


While  Edward  was  in  England  preparing  for  the 
crusade,  and  overcoming  the  obstacles  that  delayed  his 
departure,  the  Kings  of  the  Continent  began  to  move. 

Alphonso  of  Castille  had  taken  the  cross ;  but, 
having  claims  on  the  crown  of  Germany,  that  mon- 
arch declared  his  inability  to  proceed  to  the  East. 
Alphonso,  however,  furnished  his  neighbor,  James, 
King  of  Arragon,  with  a  thousand  knights  and  a 
thousand  maravedis  in  gold.  At  the  same  time,  the 
knights  of  St.  James,  and  the  cities  of  Barcelona  and 
Majorca,  aided  the  King  of  Arragon  with  men,  money, 
and  ships  ;  and  James,  with  a  formidable  fleet,  sailed 
from  Barcelona.  The  elements,  however,  proved  ad- 
verse to  the  King  and  his  friends  ;  and  a  violent  tem- 
pest having  dispersed  the  fleet,  his  own  vessel  was  cast 
on  the  coast  of  Languedoc. 

Nothing  daunted  by  this  disastrous  opening  of  the 
expedition.  King  Louis  continued  his  preparations  ;  and 
having,  early  in  March,  1270,  received  the  symbols  of 
pilgrimage  from  the  church  of  St,  Denis,  and  walked 
barefooted  from  the  Louvre  to  Notre  Dame  to  hear  a 
solemn  mass,  he  took  leave  of  Queen  Margaret,  whom 


IHE    FRENCH    AT    TUNIS.  327 

lie   was    not    destined    to   see    again,  and    repaired  to 
Aigues  Mortes,  where  his  army  was  to  embark. 

Few  of  the  crusaders  had  come  to  the  rendezvous, 
and  Louis  was  under  the  necessity  of  reminding  them 
of  their  vows.  His  example  and  exhortations  proved 
effectual  ;  and  ere  long  his  brother,  the  Count  of  Poic- 
tiers,  and  many  of  the  chief  nobles  of  France,  gathered 
around  his  standard.  Several  of  the  cities  likewise 
sent  forth  bands  of  warriors  to  fight  for  the  cross  under 
their  saintly  King  ;  and  Louis  found  himself  attended 
by  his  sons,  Philip,  heir  of  France,  and  John,  Count  of 
Nevers,  and  by  his  son-in-law  the  King  of  Navarre, 
and  surrounded  by  a  gallant  and  chivalrous  host. 

Nor  on  this  occasion,  notwithstanding  the  absence 
of  Margaret  of  Provence,  were  bright  eyes  and  fair 
faces  wanting  to  cheer  and  inspire  the  champions  of 
the  cross  ;  for  among  those  who  placed  themselves 
under  the  protection  of  St.  Louis,  were  his  daughter, 
the  Queen  of  Navarre  ;  his  daughter-in-law,  the  wife 
of  Philip  ;  liis  sister-in-law,  the  Countess  of  Poictiers  ; 
and  other  ladies  of  high  rank  and  noble  name. 

While  chivalrous  warriors  were  congregated,  and 
feudal  banners  displayed  at  Aigues  Mortes,  a  strange 
band  of  crusaders  presented  themselves.  From  the 
bogs,  the  islets,  and  the  marshes  of  Fricsland,  five 
hundred  men,  arrayed  in  leathern  jerkins,  in  waistcoats 
of  horse-cloth,  and  in  rusty  coats  of  mail,  came  to  take 
part  in  the  expedition.  "  At  all  times,"  said  they,  as 
they  ranged  themselves  under  the  oriflamme,  "  our 
nation  has  been  proud  to  obey  the  Kings  of  France." 

Everything  now  looked  promising.  Crusaders  from 
Castille   and   other   parts   of    the    Spanish   Peninsula 


328         THE    CRUSADES   AND    THE    CRUSADEKS. 

swelled  the  French  army  ;  and  Louis,  without  waiting 
for  Prince  Edward,  who,  though  too  poor  to  be  deem- 
ed of  much  importance,  would,  in  all  probability, 
being  a  man  of  unrivalled  genius,  have  enabled  the 
aged  monarch  to  avoid  many  of  the  evils  that  awaited 
him,  embarked  at  Aigues  Mortes  early  in  July,  and  in  a 
few  days  anchored  off  Cagliari. 

It  was  the  20th  of  July,  a  whole  month  before  Ed- 
ward sailed  from  Dover,  when  the  French  King  ap- 
peared in  sight  of  Carthage  ;  and  no  sooner  did  the 
fleet  become  visible  from  the  shore,  than  the  mhabitants 
fled  to  their  mountains.  Next  morning,  at  dawn,  the 
crusaders  began  to  land  ;  and  when  the  whole  army 
had  disembarked,  opposite  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  Louis 
pitched  his  camp,  formally  took  possession  of  the  terri- 
tory, seized  a  tower  at  the  point  of  the  cape,  lodged 
the  women  and  the  sick  in  a  village  hard  by,  and  sent 
soldiers  to  place  the  standard  of  France  on  the  castle 
of  Carthage.  Having  tidven  these  steps,  the  King 
ordered  his  men  to  pitch  their  tents,  and  awaited  the 
arrival  of  his  brother,  the  King  of  Sicily. 

While  Louis  was  looking  eagerly  for  the  appearance 
of  the  Sicilian  fleet,  and  deluding  himself  with  the 
hope  of  converting  the  King  of  Tunis,  that  Moorish 
prince  sent  a  messenger  to  intimate  his  intention  of 
giving  the  crusaders  battle,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred 
thousand  men  ;  and  added,  with  a  sneer,  which  dissi- 
pated all  the  French  monarch's  hopes  of  making  a 
convert,  that  he  should  require  baptism  on  the  field 
of  fight.  Louis  received  this  insulting  message  with 
patient  composure.  It  was  well,  by-the-bye,  for  the 
Ccy  that  our    Edward   had   not   then    arrived.     Had 


THE    FUEis'CH    AT    TUNIS.  329 

Longshaiiks  been  before  Tunis  that  day,  the  i\Ioorish 
prince  might  have  found  to  his  cost  that  all  Christians 
were  not  saints,  and  that  all  crusaders  were  not  mis- 
sionaries. 

Edward  and  his  knights,  however,  were  still  on  the 
sea,  and  Louis  remained  inactive.  Perhaps  he  expect- 
ed to  be  attacked.  But  the  Bey  did  not  ftilfil  his  threat  ; 
and  the  French  were  beginning  to  regard  their  enemies 
with  contempt,  when  they  learned,  not  certainly  with- 
out emotions  of  awe,  that  Bibars  Bendocdar,  the  ter- 
rible Suitan  of  Egypt,  was  preparing  to  march  to  the 
relief  of  Tunis. 

While  such  was  the  position  of  affairs,  and  the  cru- 
saders, with  the  prospect  of  encountering  so  formidable 
a  foe,  were  looking  somewhat  wistfully  for  the  sails  of 
the  King  of  Sicily,  the  climate,  the  hot  winds,  and  the 
want  of  water,  began  to  be  severely  felt ;  and  suddenly 
the  plague  invaded  the  French  camp.  The  conse- 
quences were  fearful ;  for  soon  so  many  men  of  all 
ranks  yielded  to  the  influence  of  that  dire  disease,  that 
it  became  impossible  to  bury  the  dead  ;  and  the  corpses, 
thrown  confusedly  into  the  ditches  of  the  camp,  added 
to  the  infection  of  the  atmosphere. 

At  length,  after  thousands  of  the  crusaders  had 
fallen  victims  to  the  climate,  the  Pope's  Legate  and 
the  Count  de  Nevers,  the  King's  son,  yielded  to  the 
pestilence.  Louis,  who  was  also  prostrate,  heard  of 
their  deaths  with  grief  and  tears  ;  and  soon  after  be- 
came so  ill,  that  no  hope  could  be  entertained  of  his 
recovery.  Finding  his  end  drawing  nigh,  Louis  cm- 
ployed  some  hours  in  giving  advice  to  Philip  the  Bold, 
his  heir ;    and  then,  abandoning  himself  wholly  to  the 


330    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

offices  of  religion,  caused  his  attendants  to  lay  hira, 
covered  with  hair-cloth,  upon  a  bed  of  ashes.  On  the 
25th  of  August,  he  appeared  slightly  to  revive,  but  it 
was  only  for  a  brief  period  ;  and,  feeling  his  last  mo- 
ments approach,  he  opened  his  eyes,  looked  towards 
heaven,  and  exclaimed  —  "I  will  enter  into  Thy 
house  ;  I  will  worship  in  Thy  holy  tabernacle  ;  "  and 
with  this  pious  ejaculation,  the  Saint-king  gave  up  his 
soul  to  God.-'' 

On  the  day  when  Louis  died,  and  while  gloom  over- 
spread the  camp,  Charles  of  Anjou,  brother  of  the 
Saint-king,  arrived  at  Tunis,  and  took  the  command  of 
the  French  army.  Several  conflicts  with  the  Moors 
ensued.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  on  neither  side  was 
there  any  strong  desire  to  continue  the  war ;  and  when 
the  Bey  of  Tunis  offered  to  treat,  the  French  did  not 
decline  to  open  negotiations.  Terms  were  soon  agreed 
upon.  The  Moorish  prince,  in  his  anxiety  to  get  rid 
of  the  invaders,  offered  to  allow  Christian  priests  free 
exercise  of  their  religion  in  his  capital ;  to  tolerate  the 
profession  of  Christianity  by  such  of  the  Saracens  as 
might  be  converted  ;  to  defray  the  whole  expense  of 
the  crusade  ;  and  to  pay  yearly  to  Charles  of  Anjou  the 
sum  of  forty  thousand  crowns.  On  these  terms  the 
crusaders  consented  to  relinquish  their  enterprise  ;  and 

*  "  On  the  brow  of  a  green  bill,  overlooking  the  entire  plain 
of  Carthage,  is  a  high  octagonal  Avail  ;  and,  in  the  centre  of  the 
enclosure  vrithin,  arises  the  small  Gothic  chnpel,  huilt,  as  is 
))elievecl,  on  the  site  of  the  tent  where  the  sainted  crusader  died, 
in  the  midst  of  his  dying  soldiers,  and  bearing  an  inscription 
which  informs  us,  that  it  was  erected  by  Louis  Philippe  to  the 
laemoi'y  of  his  pious  ancestor," — BarilcVs  Overland  Route, 


THE    FRENCH    AT    TUNIS.  331 

Philip,  the  young  King  of  France,  having  negotiated  a 
treaty,  prepared  to  return  to  Europe. 

The  peace  concluded  between  the  King  of  Tunis 
and  Phihp  of  France,  however  agreeable  to  Charles  of 
Anjou,  was  not  destined  to  give  universal  satisfaction. 
Bibars  Bendocdar  expressed  the  utmost  indignation  at 
the  conduct  of  the  Bey  of  Tunis.  "  Such  a  prince," 
said  the  Sultan,  "  ought  to  be  dethroned  ;  he  is  un- 
worthy to  reign  over  IMussulmans."  At  the  same 
time,  many  of  the  crusaders  expressed  their  regret. 
"  What,"  they  indignantly  asked, "  would  Christendom 
say  on  hearing  that  the  crusaders  had  fled  before  their 
vanquished  foes,  and  robbed  themselves  of  their  own 
victory  ?  " 


332         THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CKUSADEllS. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


EDWAED    OX    HIS  VOYAGE. 


While  the  French  murmured  at  the  mglorious  close 
of  then-  expedition  to  Africa,  and  while  Bibars  Bendoc- 
dar  raged  at  the  news  of  the  sacrifices  made  by  his 
JMoorish  ally,  the  conqueror  of  Evesham  and  the  Eng- 
lish crusaders,  who  at  Sardinia  had  heard  of  the  death 
of  St.  Louis,  reached  Tunis. 

Edward's  arrival,  when  proclaimed  in  the  Christian 
camp,  spread  joy  among  the  crusaders.  In  their  peril 
and  perplexity,  the  European  knights  were  delighted 
at  the  idea  of  having  among  them  the  most  famous  of 
their  order  ;  and  through  the  great  heart  of  the  Prince, 
as  his  blue  eye  scanned  the  noble  army  encamped  be- 
fore the  Moorish  capital,  thrilled  anticipations  of  for- 
tresses taken  and  fields  won.  But  scarcely  had  Edward 
landed,  and  condoled  with  the  Kings  of  Sicily  and 
France  on  the  death  of  their  saintly  relative,  and  inti- 
mated his  readiness  to  lead  them  against  the  infidels 
without  delay,  than  his  visions  of  victory  were  rudely 
put  to  flight. 

"  The  Bey  of  Tunis,"  said  Charles  of  Anjou,  "  is 
prepared  to  render  satisfaction  to  all  the  crusaders  for 
the  cost  of  their  expedhion,  and  to  pay  the  tribute  so 
long  due  to  me  as  King  of  Sicily." 


EDWARD    OX    HIS    YOYAGE.  333 

"  For  what,  my  Lord  do  you  take  me  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  Prince  in  amazement,  and  in  a  tone  which  convinced 
the  barons  of  France  that  the  day  was  gone  by  for 
talking  of  "  Enghsh  tails  "  or  assuming  airs  of  supe- 
riority. "  Deem  you  that  I  and  my  friends  have  left 
England  to  exact  tribute  from  Pagans  and  pirates  ? 
No,  by  Holy  Edward ;  but  to  make  war  against  the 
enemies  of  the  cross,  and  to  recover,  if  possible,  the 
city  of  Jerusalem  !  " 

"  Nevertheless,"  was  the  answer  of  Charles  of 
Anjou,  "  the  treaty  has  been  negotiated.  Wherefore, 
let  us  return  to  Sicily ;  and,  when  the  winter  is  past, 
we  can  sail  to  Acre." 

Mortified  was  Edward  on  hearing  of  the  peace  that 
had  been  concluded.  He  determined,  however,  not 
to  return  to  England  without  signalizing  his  prowess 
against  the  foes  of  his  religion  ;  and,  holding  aloof  from 
the  councils  of  the  crusaders,  he  refused  to  take  any 
part  in  concluding  the  peace,  or  any  portion  of  the  gold 
which  had  bribed  them  to  go  home.  Others  were 
less  scrupulous,  however  ;  and,  after  the  Bey  had  sent 
to  the  Christian  camp  thirty-two  camels,  heavily  laden 
with  gold  and  silver,  the  warriors  of  the  cross,  on  the 
18th  of  November,  embarked  for  Sicily. 

The  voyage  of  the  crusaders  proved  most  disastrous. 
When  about  to  enter  the  port  of  Trapani,  their  fleet 
was  assailed  by  a  tempest,  and  the  results  were  fright- 
ful. Eighteen  ships,  with  horses,  armor,  equipments, 
and  the  gold  received  from  the  Bey  of  Tunis,  were 
submerged ;  and  four  thousand  warriors,  whom  the 
plague  had  spared  on  the  coast  of  Carthage,  found  a 
watery  grave  off  the  coast  of  Sicily. 


334     THE  CHUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEES. 

Having  landed  at  Trapani  after  this  misfortune,  the 
crusaders  held  several  councils  to  determine  what 
course  they  were  to  pursue.  Every  leader  deplored 
the  loss  he  had  sustained  during  the  tempest ;  and 
Charles  of  Anjou,  with  an  eye  to  his  own  interest, 
proposed  that  they  should  attempt  the  conquest  of 
Constantinople,  which  had  been  recently  recovered  by 
the  Greeks.  But  this  project  failed  to  enhst  general 
sympathy.  King  Philip  expressed  his  intention  of  re- 
turning forthwith  to  France ;  and  the  Christian  princes 
and  nobles  agreed,  for  the  present,  to  lay  aside  the  cross. 
In  order  not  to  deceive  each  other,  however,  they  all 
took  a  solemn  oath  to  resume  the  crusade  at  a  sub- 
sequent period,  and  they  even  appointed  the  day  on 
which  they  were  to  embark  for  Acre. 

The  Enghsh  knights  now  looked  blank,  and  appeared 
to  consider  a  return  to  England  inevitable.  But  Ed- 
ward witnessed  with  indignation  the  cowardice  and 
hypocrisy  of  the  kings  and  princes  who  figured  in  the 
scene.  "  Though  all  my  comrades  in  arms  and  my 
countrymen  should  desert  me,"  he  said,  striking  his 
breast,  "  yet  I,  with  Fowin,  my  palfrey  keeper,  will 
enter  Acre.  By  Holy  Edward,"  he  exclaimed,  liis  eye 
kindling  and  his  form  dilating  as  he  spoke,  "  I  will 
keep  my  oath,  though  in  so  doing  my  soul  should  be 
parted  from  my  body."  On  hearing  their  Prince's 
resolution  to  persevere,  De  Clare,  De  Vesci,  De  Brus, 
and  the  other  English  knights,  indicated  their  willing- 
ness to  share  the  peril  and  minister  to  the  success  of 
his  enterprise. 

But  though  the  crusaders  from  England  expressed 
their  determuiation  to  rescue  the  endangered  Christians 


EDWARD    OX    HIS    TOTAGE.  335 

of  Syria,  the  heir  of  St.  Louis  exhibited  no  scruple  in 
abandoning  those  whom  he  had  vowed  to  succor.  In- 
deed, Philip  was  now  all  anxiety  to  take  possession  of 
his  throne;  and  no  sooner  had  the  year  1271  opened, 
than  he  set  out  for  France. 

Meantime,  Edward  of  England  remained  for  the 
^vinter  in  Sicily,  passing  his  time  in  chivalrous  exer- 
cises, and  not  neglecting,  perhaps,  to  reduce  to  military 
discipline  the  Frieslanders,  who  had  joined  St.  Louis  at 
Aigues  Mortes,  and  who  now  recognized  the  Prince  as 
their  leader.  Undaunted  by  desertion  and  difficulties, 
Edward  clung  with  tenacity  to  his  purpose,  and,  by 
showing  a  high  example,  inspired  his  friends  with 
enthusiasm  worthy  of  the  occasion. 


336     THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 


CHA  PTER    VII. 


RELIEF    OF    ACRE. 

About  the  beginning  of  April,  1271,  Bibars  Ben- 
docdar,  Sultan  of  Egypt,  at  the  head  of  a  mighty 
army,  appeared  before  the  walls  of  Acre,  and  sum- 
moned the  city  to  surrender.  The  inhabitants  were 
naturally  in  extreme  alarm.  It  was  true,  that  the 
Sultan  had  several  times  threatened  Acre  without 
proceeding  to  extremities ;  but,  on  this  occasion,  there 
remained  little  hope  of  such  forbearance  being  exer- 
cised. Indeed,  Bibars  Bcndocdar  indicated,  in  a  man- 
ner not  to  be  mistaken,  his  determination  to  remain  at 
the  foot  of  Mount  Carmel,  till  he  had  witnessed  the 
downfall  of  the  famous  stronghold  of  the  Christians  in 
the  East. 

At  that  time  Acre,  now  little  more  than  a  fortress 
in  the  sea,  was  celebrated  for  wealth  and  splendor. 
Having  long  been  regarded  by  the  crusaders  as  next 
in  importance  to  Jerusalem,  the  city  had  gradually 
been  enriched.  Thither  most  of  the  Christians,  driven 
from  other  places  in  Palestine,  fled  for  refuge ;  and 
thither  they  brought  such  wealth  as  could  be  moved 
beyond  reach  of  the  spoiler's  hands.  Acre  had  thus 
become  the  capital  of  the  Christians  in  the  East,  and 
by  far  the  richest  of  the  cities  of  Syria. 


KELIEF    OF    ACRE.  337 

Nor  were  the  fortifications  of  Acre  such  that  any 
foe  could  calculate  on  finding  its  wealth  an  easy  prey. 
During  his  abode  in  the  East,  St.  Louis  had  labored  to 
repair  and  increase  the  means  of  resistance,  and  added 
much  to  the  strength  of  the  place.  On  the  land  side, 
the  city  was  surrounded  by  a  double  wall,  with  battle- 
mented  towers,  and  by  a  deep  and  broad  ditch,  which 
prevented  access  to  its  ramparts ;  while,  towards  the 
sea,  it  was  defended  by  the  castle  of  the  Templars,  by 
the  "  King's  Tower,"  and  by  a  foi'tress  at  the  entrance 
of  the  harbor.  Constructed  of  square  stones,  the 
houses  of  Acre  all  rose  to  an  equal  height ;  and  most 
of  them  were  surmounted  by  a  terrace.  The  interior 
of  the  city  was  chiefly  occupied  by  the  abodes  of 
traders  and  artisans  ;  but,  between  two  ramparts,  that 
bounded  the  city  on  the  east,  hard  by  the  tower  and 
gate  of  St.  Anthony,  destined  to  be  celebrated  in  story, 
stood  the  castles  and  palaces  of  the  King  of  Jerusa- 
lem, the  Prince  of  Antioch,  the  representatives  of 
France  and  Sicily,  and  other  men  of  high  estate.  In- 
side, the  mansions  were  furnished  with  articles  of 
luxury,  ornamented  with  rich  pictures,  and  lighted 
by  windows  of  painted  glass,  that  pleasantly  modified 
the  sun's  glare. 

And  strange  and  picturesque  was  the  scene  pre- 
sented at  Acre  to  a  Valence  or  De  Vesci,  who,  having 
assumed  the  cross,  and  vowed  to  fight  for  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  landed  at  the  white  walls  bathed  by  the 
blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean.  Ships  from  Europe 
and  Asia  crowded  the  commodious  port.  Rich  mer- 
chandise was  stored  in  the  warehouses.  Bustle  and 
excitement  prevailed  on  the  Exchange,  A  motley 
29 


338    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

assemblage  of  sea-faring  men,  monks  and  merchants, 
pirates  and  pilgrims,  warriors  and  women,  appeared 
in  the  streets ;  and  in  the  public  places  which  were 
screened  by  silken  coverings  from  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
Christian  magnates,  attended  by  splendid  trains,  and 
wearing  golden  crowns  and  vestments  glittering  with 
precious  stones,  walked  frequently  to  show  themselves 
to  the  people. 

But,  unfortunately.  Acre  was  divided  against  itself. 
Every  nation  had  its  quarter,  and  each  quarter  was  a 
city  of  itself,  varying  in  language,  manners,  and  race 
from  its  neighbors,  and  separated  from  them  by  rival- 
ries and  jealousies,  that  frequently  produced  riot  and 
bloodshed.  Sometimes  the  magnates  assembled  to 
devise  measures  for  maintaining  order ;  but  they  gen- 
erally, by  disagreeing  among  themselves,  rendered  the 
prospect  of  concord  more  distant  than  before. 

Such  being  the  state  of  affairs.  Acre  was  in  no 
condition  to  resist  a  prolonged  siege  by  a  conqueror 
so  energetic  as  Bibars  Bendocdar.  The  Mameluke 
Sultan  had  long  been  aware  of  the  fact,  and  hitherto 
his  ambition  to  enter  Acre^  sword  in  hand,  had  been 
repressed  by  the  news  of  a  host  of  crusaders  being 
on  the  wav  to  rescue  their  distressed  brethren.  The 
death  of  Louis,  however,  and  the  return  of  the  French 
army  to  Europe,  had  freed  the  Oriental  warrior  from 
this  dread  ;  and  he  indulged  in  the  anticipation  of 
crowning  his  victories. 

This  resolution  formed,  Bibars  Bendocdar  encamped 
before  Acre.  With  his  army  he  brought  arrows,  and 
darts,  and  fire-pots,  and  machines  for  battering  walls 
with  stones,  and  leaden  balls,  and  huge  blocks  of  wood ; 


EELIEF    OF    ACRE.  339 

and,  having  caused  the  Mameluke  horsemen  to  ravage 
tlie  territories  in  the  vicinity  of  the  beleaguered  city, 
he  commenced  the  siege.  Slender  now  appeared  the 
prospect  of  the  Mussulman  soldiers  having  to  cross 
the  desert  without  reddening  their  weapons  with  Chris- 
tian blood. 

The  inhabitants  of  Acre  were  perplexed  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  nearness  of  the  peril  would  naturally 
liave  united  them,  but  it  appeared  too  late.  From 
their  ramparts  they  saw  turbaned  foes  desolating  their 
fertile  plains,  cutting  up  groves  and  gardens,  and  burn- 
ing the  villages  and  pleasure-houses  that  dotted  the 
hills ;  while  the  Sultan  was  preparing  to  assail  their 
walls  and  effect  their  ruin.  Filled  with  alarm,  and 
driven  to  despair,  they  consented  to  surrender  in  four 
days,  if  not  relieved  before  that  time.  Scarcely  one 
ray  of  hope  found  its  way  to  their  hearts. 

But  suddenly  a  marvellous  change  occurred.  Ere 
the  four  days  had  passed,  a  clangor  of  drums  and 
clarions  resounded  in  Acre  ;  and  through  the  city  ran 
a  rumor  that  a  fleet  with  warriors  on  board  was  ap- 
proaching their  harbor.  Some  rushed  to  the  house- 
tops, and  others  rushed  to  the  port,  to  watch  the  result. 
The  little  fleet  sailed  gallantly  into  the  harbor  ;  men 
in  mail  surrounding  a  lady  with  a  calm,  thoughtful 
countenance,  appeared  upon  one  of  the  decks ;  a  war- 
rior, simply  arrayed,  but  taller  by  the  head  than  ordi- 
nary mortals,  and  with  a  form  as  magnificent  as  his 
stature  was  tall,  leaped  ashore.  It  was  the  Conqueror 
of  Evesham. 

Bibars  Bendocdar  must  have  heard  the  shout  that 
rose    from  the  quay  of  Acre,  and  gradually   swelled 


340    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

as  it  ran  from  street  to  street,  and  from  house-top  to 
liouse-top.  Perhaps  one  of  those  mysterious  emotions 
which  warn  men  of  approaching  danger,  touched  the 
heart  of  the  crowned  criminal.  In  any  case,  the  Sul- 
tan, ere  long,  learned  that  a  fair-haired  warrior  was 
resting  his  long  limbs  in  the  palace  of  Acre,  and  that 
a  gray  charger  was  eating  his  provender  from  a  marble 
manger  in  a  Syrian  stall. 


EDWARD    IX    THE    EAST.  311 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


EDWARD    IX    THE    EAST. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1271,  Edward,  accompanied 
by  his  fair  spouse,  and  Theobald,  arch-deacon  of  Pla- 
centia,  his  old  tuto*',  left  the  shores  of  Sicily  and  sailed 
for  Acre.  Small  was  the  force  with  which  the  English 
prince  Went  to  rescue  the  imperilled  Christians  of 
Syria.  His  brother,  Edmund  Crouchback,  Earl  of 
Lancaster;  his  brother-in-law,  John,  Earl  of  Brittany; 
his  beloved  friends,  Robert  de  Brus,  John  de  Vesci, 
and  Thomas  De  Clare,  with  three  hundred  English 
knights,  and  the  Frieslanders  who  had  left  Aigues 
Mortes  with  St.  Louis,  formed  the  force  with  which 
he  went  to  encounter  Bibars  Bendocdar. 

Before  proceeding  to  Acre,  Edward  landed  at 
Cyprus,  and  having  been  received  by  the  King  and 
nobles  of  that  island  with  the  honors  due  to  his  rank 
and  reputation,  continued  his  voyage  towards  the 
imperilled  city.  No  sooner  had  the  Prince  landed 
at  Acre,  than  he  climbed  the  walls,  viewed  Bendoc- 
dar's  army,  and  ascertained  the  extent  of  territory 
which  the  Christians  still  called  their  own.  The 
scene  which  lay  before  the  great  Prince's  eye,  must 
have  suggested  melancholy  thoughts.  He  could  not 
delude  himself  with  the  idea  of  changing  the  fortune 


o 


0* 


342    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

of  the  East  at  the  head  of  so  slender  a  force  as  that 
which  he  had  brought  to  Acre  ;  but  he  must  have 
reflected,  with  a  sigh,  what  a  mighty  part  he  might 
have  played  in  the  "  world's  debate,"  had  he  come  at 
the  head  of  such  an  army,  as  had  over  and  over 
again  been  ruined  and  lost  for  want  of  a  leader  of 
capacity.  As  it  was,  he  could  only  lament  the  plight 
to  which  the  empire  of  Godfrey  had  been  reduced. 

But  small  as  was  Edward's  army,  his  arrival  changed 
the  Sultan's  plans.  Every  Mameluke  warrior  heard 
with  consternation  that  he  was  of  the  same  regal 
race  as  Richard  Ca3ur  de  Lion,  the  fame  of  whose 
prowess  still  lingered  in  the  East  ;  and  Bibars  Bendoc- 
dar  no  sooner  became  aware  that  Edward  Plantagenet 
was  in  Acre,  than  he  evinced  his  alarm,  gathered  in  his 
warriors,  and  beat  a  retreat. 

The  arrival  of  Edward  and  the  retreat  of  Bibars, 
revived  the  hopes  of  the  Eastern  Christians;  and 
around  the  Prince  gladly  came  the  Templars  and  the 
Knights  of  St.  John.  With  their  aid  he  planned  an 
expedition  ;  for  the  idea  of  remaining  idle  was  not  one 
to  be  entertained.  Within  a  month  after  his  landing, 
Edward  left  the  Princess  at  Acre,  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  little  army,  and  advanced  upon  the 
Mussulman  territories.  After  having  seen  his  force 
increase  to  the  number  of  seven  thousand  men,  he 
marched  towards  Nazareth. 

A  well-built  town  situated  about  six  miles  from 
Mount  Tabor,  in  a  narrow  valley,  with  flat-roofed 
houses  of  two  storys,  and  environs  planted  with  fig- 
trees,  olive-trees,  and  vines  :  such  is  Nazareth,  in  the 
nineteenth  century.     At  the  time  of  the  crusades,  this 


EDWARD    IN    THE    EAST.  343 

town  was  regarded  with  peculiar  veneration,  as  the 
place  in  which  the  Saviour  of  mankind  had  passed  his 
earher  years ;  and,  within  its  hmits,  the  crusaders 
erected,  in  honor  of  the  Virgin,  a  church,  which  was 
considered  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  structures 
raised  by  the  Christians  in  the  East.  Shortly  before 
Edward's  arrival  at  Acre,  Bibars  Bendocdar  having 
taken  Nazareth  from  the  Christians,  rendered  the 
occasion  memorable  by  giving  the  church  of  St.  Mary 
to  the  flames  ;  and  so  bitter  was  the  indignation  felt  by 
the  faithful  at  this  act  of  destruction,  that  when  Ed- 
ward turned  towards  Nazareth,  the  crusaders  thanked 
God  that  the  day  of  vengeance  had  arrived. 

Edward,  though  squeamish  about  shedding  the  blood 
of  English  peasants,  had  probably  no  scruples  about 
the  slaughter  of  "  Pagan  dogs."  Advancing  upon 
Nazareth,  he  resolved  on  taking  the  place  by  storm  ; 
and  fearful  was  the  carnage  that  ensued.  With  a 
craving  for  revenge  gnawing  at  their  hearts,  the 
crusaders  assaulted  the  town  ;  and  entering,  sword 
in  hand,  cut  down  all  who  opposed.  No  quarter  was 
given.  The  ciy  of  "  Remember  the  burning  of  St. 
Mary's  church,"  was  sufficient  to  drown  every  appeal 
for  mercy ;  and  the  crusaders  only  ceased  from  the 
work  of  carnage  to  plant  the  Christian  standard  on  the 
walls. 

After  garrisoning  Nazareth,  Edward  set  out  on  his 
return  to  Acre.  Ere  proceeding  a  few  miles,  however, 
he  received  intelligence,  that  an  army  of  Saracens  was 
coming  in  pursuit,  with  the  hope  of  surprising  him  in 
a  narrow  pass,  and  of  retaking  the  town.  Not  a 
moment  was   lost.     The   victorious    crusaders    imme- 


314  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADEIiS. 

diatcly  turning  back,  met  tlieir  foes  face  to  face ;  and 
tlie  Saracens,  suddenly  attacked,  sustained  such  a  de- 
feat as  convinced  them  of  the  prowess  of  the  foe 
whom  they  had  to  encounter. 

But  Bibars  Bendocdar  was  not  a  man  to  despair  ; 
and  the  crusaders  had  scarcely  time  to  rest  from  their 
fatigues,  when  information  reached  Edward  that  the 
Saracens  were  mustering  at  Kahow,  about  fifteen 
miles  from  Acre,  and  preparing  to  come  and  offer 
him  battle.  "  Ha  !  "  exclaimed  the  English  Prince, 
with  a  spirit  as  high  as  he  exhibited  on  a  similar 
occasion  twenty-six  years  later,  "  they  shall  not  need 
to  come  to  find  me  ;  for  I  will  forthwith  go  to  seek 
them  !  " 

Everything  was  quickly  prepared  for  an  expedition  ; 
and  on  the  evening  of  Tuesday,  the  23d  of  June,  the 
crusaders  learned  that,  before  daybreak,  war- steeds 
must  be  saddled  and  warriors  mounted.  Long  ere 
sunrise,  Edward  issued  from  Acre  at  the  head  of  his 
army,  and  directed  his  course  towards  the  Saracenic 
camp.  A  small  force,  indeed,  his  appeared,  with  which 
to  go  on  such  an  enterprise  ;  but  stout  were  the  hearts 
and  strong  the  hands  of  the  Christian  warriors,  as  they 
moved  onward,  confident  in  the  genius  of  their  chief 
and  the  grandeur  of  their  cause. 

Chroniclers  have  failed  to  hand  down  to  us  any 
detailed  account  of  Edward's  operations  in  the  East ; 
and,  considering  the  achievements  which  history  has 
had  to  record  of  that  mighty  Prince  as  the  English 
Justinian,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  his  exploits  as  a 
crusader  should  have  been  allowed  to  fall  into  the 
background.     Sufficient  has,  however,  been  chronicled 


EDWARD    IN    THE    EAST.  345 

to  show  how  rapidly  and  widely  his  fame  spread  in 
the  East,  and  to  give  an  idea  of  the  last  field,  on  which 
the  warriors  of  Christendom  did  battle  for  the  recovery 
of  their  Saviour's  sepulchre. 

It  was  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  the  24th  of 
June,  1271 ;  and  the  force  of  Bibars  Bendocdar  was 
drawn  together  at  Kahow,  where  there  was  a  castle. 
The  Saracenic  warriors  were  bent  upon  a  great  effort 
to  crush  their  foes;  and  the  Saracenic  poets  were 
probably  celebrating  Edward's  prospective  defeat  and 
death. 

While  the  Saracens  were  passing  "  the  space  of 
dim  hazy  dawn  which  forms  the  twilight  of  a  Syrian 
morning,"  in  dreams  of  victory,  they  became  aware 
of  the  approach  of  foes  ;  and,  with  banners  displayed 
and  lances  gleaming,  the  crusaders  advanced  to  the 
attack.  Well  did  the  turbaned  soldiers  of  Bibars 
Bendocdar  know  the  approaching  warriors.  On  that 
point,  at  least,  there  could  hardly  have  been  a  mistake. 
The  Templars  were  there  with  their  white  mantles 
and  red  crosses ;  and  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  in 
their  black  robes,  with  five  white  crosses  on  each  in 
memory  of  the  five  wounds  of  Christ ;  and  strangely 
mingling  and  contrasting  with  the  crusaders  from 
Friesland  in  waistcoats  of  horsecloth  and  rusty  jack- 
ets, appeared  the  English  chivalry,  trained  to  arms  in 
the  Barons'  War,  and  eager  to  prove  their  piety  and 
their  patriotism.  William  de  Valence,  and  John  de 
Vesci ;  John  de  Gourney,  and  Odo  de  Grandison ; 
Roger  de  Clifford,  and  Thomas  de  Clare  ;  Robert  de 
Brus,  John  of  Brittany,  and  Edmund  Crouchback,  Earl 
of    Lancaster,  with  silken  surcoats   over  their    chain 


3lG  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

mail,  must  have  appeared  no  contemptible  foes,  as 
they  clustered  around  "  Su'e  Edward  "  on  that  mid- 
summer morning,  when  he  rode  to  Kahow  and  offered 
battle  to  the  enemies  of  his  religion.  Few,  indeed, 
they  were;  but  Bibars  Bendocdar  was  destined  to 
learn,  that  Christendom  had  never  sent  gallanter  men 
to  fight  for  the  cross,  than  were  found  in  that  little 
band  of  Englishmen. 

Nothing  daunted,  we  will  suppose  the  Saracens  to 
have  sprung  to  arms  ;  and  beat,  their  drums,  and  pre- 
pared for  resistance.  But,  however  that  may  have 
been,  it  soon  appeared,  that  against  the  army  led  by 
the  Conqueror  of  Evesham,  their  valor  was  vain. 
Templars  and  Knights  of  St.  John  dyed  their  lances 
in  infidel  blood ;  Edward's  knights  exhibited  a  cour- 
age worthy  of  the  flower  of  Anglo-Norman  chivalry  ; 
and,  dashing  aside  turban  and  buckler,  the  Frieslanders 
rushed  on  without  a  thought  of  mercy,  and,  in  the 
name  of  their  Redeemer,  slew  the  unbelieving  foe. 

But  in  the  conflict,  Edward  must  have  been  by  far 
the  most  formidable  champion  of  the  cross.  Indeed, 
when  the  imagination  is  conducted  by  a  train  of  his- 
torical associations  to  the  thirteenth  century,  it  is  not 
easy,  in  that  dauntless  and  too-adventurous  soldier,  to 
recognize  the  calm  English  statesman,  who  rendered 
his  memory  immortal  by  the  laws  which  he  instituted. 
Mounted  on  his  gray  steed,  now  charging  forward  at 
the  head  of  his  knights,  dispersing  the  amazed  foe  — 
now  retreating  to  re-form  his  little  band  or  to  engage, 
hand  to  hand,  with  some  stalwart  Saracen,  this  Eng- 
lish Prince,  already  great  as  a  warrior,  and  destined  to 
prove  far  greater  as  a  legislator  and  administrator,  by 


edwaud  in  the  east.  347 

lus  marvellous  prowess,  appears  to  have  produced  on 
the  oriental  imagination,  an  impression  not  less  strong 
than  had,  in  other  days,  been  made  by  Robert  Cur- 
those,  with  his  paladin-like  courage,  or  by  Richard 
CcEur  de  Lion  with  his  mighty  strength.-'* 

At  length  the  Saracens  were  smitten  hip  and 
thigh  ;  and,  a  multitude  of  his  soldiers  having  fallen, 
the  host  of  Bibars  Bendocdar  gave  way.  Their 
mig;hty  adversary  appeared  to  be  gifted  with  super- 
natural strength  ;  and  when  Edward,  on  Gray  Lyard, 
charged  upon  the  Sultan's  ranks,  Mahomet  could  not 
have  sustained  their  courage.  Emir  and  Baharite 
alike  recoiled  before  the  strong  steed  and  the  tall 
rider  ;  and,  leaving  the  camp  to  their  victors,  they 
disappeared  from  the  lost  field. 

While  the  Saracens  were  flying  wherever  they 
deemed  that  safety  could  be  found,  the  crusaders  en- 
tered the  deserted  camp,  and  had  the  gratification  of 
finding  "  much  booty."  This  operation  over,  they 
left  the  field  to  the  eagles  and  vultures,  that,  with 
unerring  instinct,  came  down  from  the  mountains  to 
prey  upon  the  bodies  of  the  slain ;  and  proceeded  to 
a  stronghold,  situated  on  the  sea  coast,  and  known  as 

*  "  In  these  skirmishes,"  says  Fuller,  *'  he  gave  evident  testi- 
monies of  his  personal  valor.  Yea,  in  cold  blood,  he  "would 
boldly  challenge  any  infidel  to  a  duel.  To  speak  truth,  this  his 
conceived  perfection  was  his  greatest  imperfection ;  for  the  world 
was  abundantly  satisfied  in  the  point  of  his  valor.  Yet  such 
was  his  confidence  of  his  strength,  and  eagerness  of  honor,  that 
having  merited  the  esteem  of  a  most  stout  man,  he  would  still 
supererogate ;  yea,  he  would  prefer  to  fight  with  any  mean 
person,  if  cried  up  by  the  volge  for  a  tall  man." 


318  THE    CEUSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 

the  Castle  of  the  Pilgrims.  At  this  fortress,  the  re- 
markable ruins  of  which  are  still  to  be  seen,  the  crusa- 
ders, during  Wednesday  night,  found  quarters  ;  and, 
on  Thursday  morning,  they  returned  in  triumph  to 
Acre. 

Having  been  received  with  much  applause  by  the 
Christians  in  Acre,  and  joined  by  the  King  and  nobles 
of  Cyprus,  Edward  began  to  dream  of  accomphshing 
something  great,  and  prepared  for  a  third  expedition. 
Arrangements  having  been  made,  his  trumpets  once 
more  sounded  to  horse  ;  and  marching,  in  the  month 
of  August,  as  far  as  the  castle  of  St.  George,  the 
Prince  took  possession  of  that  stronghold.  No  foe, 
however,  appeared  to  oppose  Edward's  progress,  and 
nothing  farther  could  be  achieved.  Indeed,  when  the 
Syrian  Christians  discovered  that  the  English  Prince 
had  no  money,  and  that  he  expected  no  reinforce- 
ments, their  ardor  suddenly  cooled  ;  and,  finding  the 
impossibility  of  keeping  an  army  together,  he  was  fain 
to  return  to  Acre. 

The  position  of  Edward  was  now  mortifying,  but  he 
was  not  without  a  consolation.  Fortunately,  enough 
had  been  done  to  gratify  the  pride  of  Englishmen,  and 
to  teach  foreigners  to  speak  of  English  warriors  with 
respect.  He  knew  well  that  when  slowly  but  surely, 
tidings  reached  London  of  Acre  having  been  relieved, 
Nazareth  retaken,  the  castle  of  the  Pilgrims  and  the 
castle  of  St.  George  recovered,  and  the  battle  of  Ka- 
how  won  against  fearful  odds,  royalists  and  supporters 
of  oligarchy  would  shake  hands,  and  pledge  each  other 
in  a  health  to  "  Sire  Edward,"  and  breathe  a  prayer 
that  the  brave  Prince  might  soon  be  restored  to  the 
land  of  which  he  was  the  pride  and  the  hope. 


EDWARD    IN    THE    EAST.  349 

Edward  might  well  be  gratified  with  the  result  of 
his  achievements.  With  three  hundred  vahant  men 
from  England,  he  had  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs. 
Bibars  Bendocdar  had  retreated  to  Egypt,  as  had  been 
his  wont  after  a  campaign,  but  not,  as  on  former  occa- 
sions, to  recruit  and  return.  In  fact,  the  Sultan  had 
met  his  match,  and  discovered  that  no  advantage  was 
to  be  gained  in  playing  the  game  of  carnage  with  the 
man  who  laid  Simon  de  Montfort  low. 


80 


350  THE    CRUSADES    AXD    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


HEXRY    OE    CORNWALL. 


Gne  day,  while  Edward  was  at  Acre  and  walkinn;  in 
the  gallery  of  the  palace,  a  messenger  arrived  from 
Italy ;  and,  with  a  grave  countenance,  presented  a 
letter.  On  perusing  this,  the  Prince  started,  shud- 
dered, and  appeared  struck  with  surprise  and  horror. 
The  letter,  which  was  written  by  the  King  of  Sicily, 
bore  date  the  13th  of  March,  1271  ;  and  its  contents 
were  such  as  might  well  make  Edward's  heart  beat 
and  his  lip  quiver. 

At  Viterbo,  a  papal  city  about  twenty-five  miles 
from  Rome,  the  cardinals,  wearing  their  scarlet  robes, 
had,  in  the  spring  of  1271,  assembled  to  choose  a  suc- 
cessor to  the  Sixth  Clement ;  when  thither,  trusting  to 
influence  the  election,  went  Philip,  the  young  King  of 
France,  and  his  uncle,  Charles  of  Anjou.  At  the 
same  time,  in  the  company  of  his  kinsmen,  but  proba- 
bly not  sympathising  with  their  object,  appeared  Henry 
of  Cornwall,  then  in  his  thirty-sixth  year,  and  in  the 
full  vigor  of  manhood. 

Henry,  who  was  heir  of  Richard,  King  of  the 
Romans,  and  some  years  older  than  Prince  Edward, 
had  fought  in  the  Barons'  War,  yielded  himself  to 
Montfort,  after  Lewes,  and  resided   for  some  time,  in 


HENRY    OF    COEXAVALL.  351 

gentle  captivity,  at  the  castle  of  Kenil worth.  By  his 
aunt,  the  Countess  of  Leicester,  and  two  of  her  sons, 
Guy  and  Simon  de  Montfort,  the  heir  of  Cornwall  had 
been  treated  with  kindness.  With  young  Guy,  especi- 
ally, he  had  been  on  terms  of  intimacy.^-  The  cousins 
hunted  together,  hawked  together,  and  indulged  in  the 
recreations  fashionable  at  the  period  ;  and,  as  Henry 
and  his  sire  were  prisoners  at  the  time  of  Evesham, 
they  had  no  share  m  the  overthrow  of  Montfort's 
power. 

But  Edward's  victory  at  Evesham  opened  up  a  new 
scene  ;  and  when  Henry  the  Third  was  restored  by 
his  son  to  the  throne  of  his  fathers,  the  King  of  the 
Romans  and  his  heir  appeared  as  supporters  of  the 
royal  authority.  Moreover,  when  an  expedition  to  the 
Holy  Land  was  resolved  on,  the  King  of  the  Romans 
undertook  the  guardianship  of  Edward's  son  ;  and 
Henry  of  Cornwall  accompanied  the  Prince  on  the 
crusade,  from  which  so  much  was  hoped.  These  very 
natural  circumstances,  the  Montforts  appear  to  have 
regarded  with  a  jealous  eye  ;  and  a  tragic  catastrophe 
was  the  consequence. 

It  happened  that  while  Edward  was  passing  the 
winter  of  1270  in  Sicily,  circumstances  led  him  to 
distrust  the  King  of  France,  and  to  feel  some  sus- 
picions as  to  the  intentions  of  the  Earl  of  Gloucester. 
Such  being  the  case,  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  send  the 
heir  of  Cornwall  to  Gascony,  that  Henry  might  watch 

*  "  The  only  object  of  real  jealousy  to  the  Montforts,"  says 
Mrs.  Gr.en,  "  was  Prince  Edward.  They  knew  his  character 
well;  and  his  captivity  appears  to  have  been  far  more  rigorous 
tkan  that  of  his  royal  relations." — Princesses  of  England. 


852  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

over  the  safety  of  that  province,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  keep  an  eye  on  the  affairs  of  England.  Accom- 
panying the  Kings  of  France  and  Sicily  to  Viterbo, 
and  becoming  interested  in  the  deliberations  of  the 
cardinals,  Henry  yielded  to  curiosity  and  lingered  in 
the  city  to  witness  the  ceremony  of  an  election.  His 
stay  was  to  cost  him  dear. 

During  the  week  that  Henry  of  Cornwall  was  loiter- 
ing about  Viterbo,  Guy  and  Simon  de  Montfort,  bent 
on  miscliief,  appeared  in  the  city.  In  England,  where 
these  young  noblemen  had  so  recently  domineered, 
they  had  no  chance  of  a  home.  After  Evesham, 
Edward  obtained  the  King's  pardon  for  the  Countess 
of  Leicester,  but  declined  to  say  one  word  for  her 
sons.  The  young  Montforts,  therefore,  finding  them- 
selves banished  men,  and,  brooding  over  misfortunes, 
forgot  the  exact  cause  of  quarrel,  and  believed  them- 
selves injured  parties.  Moreover,  Simon  had  just 
returned  from  a  stolen  visit  to  his  father's  tomb  in 
England,  burning  for  vengeance.  When  men  are  in 
this  state  of  mind,  it  is  marvellous  what  deeds  they 
can  contemplate  without  horror.  Understanding  that 
Henry  was  in  the  city,  he  resolved  on  an  assassination, 
and  induced  Guy  to  take  part  in  the  project. 

Utterly  unaware  of  the  hostility  felt  towards  him 
by  his  cousins,  Henry  of  Cornwall,  on  the  morning  of 
the  13th  of  March,  went  to  mass  at  the  church  of  St. 
Lawrence  ;  and,  having  for  days  been  dogged  from 
place  to  place,  he  -was  observed  to  enter  the  sacred 
edifice.  Immediately  the  church  was  surrounded  by 
the  Montforts  and  their  adherents ;  and,  while  Guy 
kept  watch  at  the  door  to  prevent  his  kinsman's  escape, 


HENRY    OF    CORNWALL.  353 

Simon,  suppressing  all  scruples  of  conscience,  entered 
the  building  bent  on  murder. 

When  the  heir  of  Cornwall  was  at  his  prayers  be- 
fore the  high  altar,  he  heard  a  well  Imown  voice  ex- 
claim, "  Henry,  traitor,  thou  shalt  not  escape  !  "  and 
looking  round  he  saw  his  cousin  Simon,  completely 
armed  and  brandishing  a  sword.  Utterly  defenceless, 
and  alarmed,  as  he  well  might  be,  Henry  clung  to  the 
altar  ;  and  two  priests  rushed  between  the  assassin  and 
his  intended  victim.  But  Simon,  who  appears  to  have 
inherited  his  sire's  nature  as  his  name,  regardless  of 
everything  but  a  craving  for  revenge,  stabbed  his  kins- 
man to  the  heart,  and  is  said  to  have  even  slain  the 
priests,  who  attempted  to  stay  his  hand.  Having  per- 
petrated this  crime,  the  assassin  called  in  his  friends  to 
view  the  bleeding  body  of  his  kinsman  ;  and  the  Mont- 
forts,  after  dragging  the  corpse  to  the  door  of  the 
church,  and  exhibiting  it  to  the  multitude,  mounted 
their  horses  and  rode  off  to  take  refuge  with  the  Count 
of  Aldobrandini,  whose  daughter  Guy  had  espoused. 

The  assassination  of  Henry  of  Cornwall  excited  the 
utmost  horror  at  Viterbo  ;  and  some  attempts  were 
made  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  murderers.  Neither 
the  King  of  France  nor  the  King  of  Sicily,  however, 
exerted  themselves  very  vigorously ;  and  grave  sus- 
picions were,  not  without  cause,  entertained  that  the 
Montforts  had  been  instruments  of  personages  much 
more  important  than  themselves. 

Henry's  mortal  remains  were  brought  to  England, 

his  heart  was  interred  in  a  gold  cup,  near  St.  Edward's 

shrine,  at    Westminster,    and    his  body   in  the    abbey 

which  liis  father  founded  at  Haylcs.     Sorrowing  over 

30* 


3d4   the  crusades  and  the  crusaders. 

the  death  of  his  heh',  and  refusing  to  be  comforted,  the 
King  of  the  Romans  pined  away ;  and  in  the  spring  of 
1272,  he  was  laid  by  the  side  of  his  son.  At  V^iterbo, 
the  memory  of  Henry  of  Cornwall  was  long  preserved 
by  a  painting  of  his  death  on  the  walls  of  the  church 
of  St.  Lawrence. 


THE    PBIKCE    AND    THE    ASSASSIN.  355 


CHAPTER    X, 


THE    PRINCE    AND    THE    ASSASSIN. 

Acre  having  been  relieved,  Nazareth  recaptured, 
and  Kakhovv  won,  Edward's  fame  spread  over  the 
East ;  and  Albaga,  King  of  the  Tartars,  sent  ambassa- 
dors with  letters  expressing  his  high  admiration  of  the 
English  Prince,  and  offering  to  despatch  Cenebar,  a 
great  Tartar  warrior,  to  aid  the  crusaders  against 
their  Mameluke  foe.  Edward  treated  the  proposal 
with  favor,  and  began  to  dream  of  mighty  conquests 
made  by  him  at  the  head  of  an  army  composed  of 
Christians  and  Tartars ;  but  circumstances  proved 
altogether  unfavorable  to  his  grand  designs,  or  to 
farther  operations. 

In  fact,  selfishness  and  the  chmate  had  done  for 
Bibars  Bendocdar  what  the  potent  Sultan  could  not 
have  done  for  himself.  Freed  from  pressing  danger, 
and  discovering  that  Edward  had  no  money,  the  Syrian 
Christians  became  lukewarm  in  their  alliance  ;  and, 
parched  by  the  Syrian  sun,  the  crusaders  from  Europe 
found  themselves  unfitted  for  exertion.  All  the  Enfr. 
lish  suffered  from  the  excessive  heat  ;  many  of  them 
fell  victims  to  a  too-free  indulgence  in  the  fruit  of 
the  country  ;  and,  ere  long,  the  Prince  was  stretched 
on  a  bed  of  sickness.     While   Edward  lay  prostrate  in 


336    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

the  palace  of  Acre,  and  lamented  bitterly  the  murder 
of  Henry  of  Cornwall,  and  cursed  the  treachery  that 
had  enabled  the  murderers  of  his  kinsman  to  escape, 
the  knife  of  the  assassin  was  stealthily  approaching  Ins 
own  brave  and  generous  heart. 

Among  the  Eastern  magnates  who  obeyed  the  word 
of  Bibars  Bendocdar,  the  Emir  of  Joppa  was  one  of 
the  most  conspicuous.  This  Emir,  who  exercised  great 
influence,  expressed  a  high  admiration  of  Edward's 
valor,  and,  pretending  a  strong  desire  to  be  converted 
to  Christianity,  opened  communications  with  the  Prince 
through  an  assassin  named  Anazazim,  and  known  as 
"  the  Old  Man  of  the  IMountains."  -^  As  the  Emir's 
messages  were  strictly  secret,  the  Prince's  chamber 
was  cleared  whenever  his  agent  demanded  an  inter- 
view ;  and  Anazazim  came  and  went  so  frequently 
with  letters  and  messages,  that  at  length  everything 
like  suspicion  was  lulled  to  sleep. 

On  one  occasion  —  it  was  the  evening  of  Friday  in 
Whitsun  week  —  Edward  attired  in  a  white  vest,  was 
reclining  on  his  couch,  and  resting  his  head  against  a 
window  in  deep  thought.  The  scene  before  him  was 
fair  to  behold.  The  sky  appeared  richly  colored  ;  the 
setting  sun  painted  the  landscape  in  gorgeous  hues; 
the  breeze  sighed  among  the  palm-trees  and  lofty  syca- 
mores ;    and   the  waters  of    the   Mediterranean   mur- 

*  "  This  man,"  says  M.  Paris,  "  had  been  educated  in  sub- 
terranean places  from  boyhood,  -where  he  had  been  taught  to 
make  a  sudden  attack  on  any  prince  of  the  adversaries  of  his 
sect,  and  had  been  given  to  understand,  that  even  if  he  should 
be  slain  in  his  attempt,  he  "would,  for  such  an  action,  receive 
new  life  among  the  joys  of  Paradise." 


THE    PKINCE    AND    THE    ASSASSIN.  357 

mured  on  the  Syrian  shore.  But  the  Prince's  heart 
and  his  fancy  were  in  all  probability  far  away.  He 
was  thinking,  perhaps  with  sadness,  of  the  oaken 
forests  of  England,  through  whose  glades  he  had 
hunted  the  stag,  and  of  the  fair  fields  over  which  he 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  flying  his  white  Norwegian 
hawk. 

While  Edward  mused,  and  the  hour  of  vespers 
approached,  Anazazim  appeared  at  the  palace  and 
demanded  an  audience.  The  Prince's  attendants  forth- 
with left  the  chamber  ;  and  "  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountains,"  after  making  his  usual  salaam  at  the  door, 
entered,  and  kneeling  in  profound  submission,  presented 
a  letter.  While  Edward  was  occupied  with  the  peru- 
sal, Anazazim,  pretending  to  have  another  letter,  put 
his  hand  in  his  bosom  as  if  to  produce  it.  Instead, 
however,  he  drew  forth  a  dagger,  and  made  a  thrust 
at  Edward's  side.  The  Prince  was  in  the  utmost 
peril  ;  but  his  keen  eye  was  on  the  assassin  in  an 
instant  ;  and,  quick  as  thought,  he  raised  his  arm  and 
warded  off  the  blow.  Utterly  desperate,  the  "  Old 
Man "  made  a  second  attempt.  Springing  up  at  a 
bound,  Edward  wrenched  the  dagger  from  his  hand, 
and  exclaiming  "  Base  traitor,"  laid  him  lifeless  on 
the  floor. 

Meanwhile  the  noise  of  a  scufHe  reached  the  ears 
of  Edward's  household ;  and,  in  alarm,  the  officers  in 
attendance  rushed  in  to  ascertain  the  cause.  Seeing 
Anazazim  on  the  floor,  and  Edward  pale  with  rage, 
the  Prince's  harper,  guessing  the  whole,  seized  a  stool, 
and  beat  out  the  assassin's  brains.  But  the  Prince 
reproved  the  harper  with  indignation.      "  Why,"  he 


358  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CRTJSADEES. 

asked    indignantly,   "  do    you    strike    a    man    who    is 
dead?" 

News  of  Edward's  mishap  quickly  reached  the 
court  of  the  palace  and  flew  into  the  city  ;  and  great 
was  the  alarm  caused  thereby.  Everybody  was  seized 
with  apprehension  ;  and  all  wrung  their  hands.  But 
the  master  of  the  Templars  said,  "  The  wound  must 
be  looked  to,  for  doubtless  the  weapon  would  be 
poisoned  ;  "  and  having  procured  a  potion,  which  it 
was  believed,  would  prevent  poison  from  taking  effect, 
he  hurried  to  the  Prince.  "  I  forewarned  vou  that 
the  man  meditated  treachery,"  said  the  Grand  Master, 
as  he  entered  Edward's  chamber.  "  However,  be  of 
good  cheer.     Take  this  potion  ;  and  all  will  end  well." 

Surgeons  having  been  sent  for,  the  wound  was 
dressed  ;  and  hopes  of  a  speedy  recovery  were  enter- 
tained. But  when  a  few  days  passed  over,  gloom 
appeared  on  the  faces  of  the  English  crusaders  ;  and 
much  alarm  was  excited  in  Acre  by  a  rumor  that  the 
wound  was  growing  black  and  showing  signs  of  morti- 
fication. On  observing  this,  the  surgeons,  though  little 
guessing  the  value  of  the  life  with  which  they  were 
dealing,  manifested  dismay,  and  conversed  in  so  low 
a  tone,  as  not  only  to  alarm  the  Princess,  who  was 
present,  but  even  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  mighty 
patient. 

"  Assuredly,"  they  whispered  to  one  another,  "  the 
dagger  has  been  smeared  with  poison." 

*'  Why  do  you  whisper  among  yourselves  ?  "  asked 
Edward,  turning  on  his  uneasy  couch.  "  Tell  me  the 
truth,  and  fear  not.     Can  I  not  be  cured  ?  " 

One  of  the  physicians  stepped  forward.  He  was 
an  Englishman  and  celebrated  for  his  skill. 


THE    PKINCE    AND    THE    ASSASSIN.  359 

"  Sire  Edward,"  he  answered,  "  you  can  be  cured. 
But,  in  that  case,  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  under- 
go acute  suffering." 

"  And  if  I  suffer,"  asked  Edward,  "  do  you  promise 
me  restoration  to  health." 

"  I  promise  it,"  said  the  English  physician  ;  "  and  I 
would  hazard  .my  head  on  the  cure." 

"  Then,"  said  Edward,  "  I  commit  my  body  to  your 
hands.     Do  with  me  whatever  you  will." 

At  this  time,  Eleanor  of  Castille,  then  about  twenty- 
seven,  stood  by  Edward's  couch  ;  and  horrified  at  the 
pain  which  was  to  be  inflicted  on  her  husband,  the 
Princess  gave  way  to  grief  and  burst  into  tears.  But 
the  physician,  feeling  that  he  could  not  operate  in  her 
presence,  and  moreover  that  it  was  no  time  for  cere- 
mony, insisted  that  she  should  leave  the  chamber,  and 
requested  Edmund  Crouchback  and  John  de  Yesci  to 
lead  her  out. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  exclaimed  Eleanor,  weeping ;  "  I 
will  not  leave  my  husband  at  such  a  moment." 

"  ]\Iadam,"  said  de  Vesci,  removing  the  Princess, 
but  with  chivalrous  respect,  "be  contented  —  it  is 
better  that  one  woman  should  shed  tears  for  a  little 
while,  than  that  all  England  should  lament  for  a  great 
season." 

When  the  chamber  was  cleared,  the  Ensrlish  surgeon 
set  to  work ;  and,  having  nerve  and  skill,  he  per- 
formed the  operation  with  complete  success.  "  Now, 
Sire,"  said  he,  "  take  comfort  ;  for  I  prophesy  that  in  a 
fortnight  you  will  be  able  to  mount  your  horse."  The 
prediction  of  the  English   surgeon  appeared  unlikely 


360  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

to  be  fulfilled ;  but  his  skill  excited  general  admira- 
tion.'♦' 

When  Edward's  wound  began  to  heal,  the  Chris- 
tians in  Acre  expressed  their  anxiety  to  march  against 
the  Saracens  and  avenge  the  attempt  at  assassination. 
But  Edward,  turning  on  his  couch,  said,  "  In  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  I  prohibit  all  from  molesting  the  pagans 
at  this  time.  Know  you  not  that  many  of  my  nation 
have  gone,  in  small  companies,  on  pilgrimages  to  the 
Sepulchre  ;  and  if  we  give  the  pagans  even  the  small- 
est annoyance,  my  countrymen  will  all  be  slain  ?  " 

IMeanwhile  Bibars  Bendocdar,  hearing  of  Edward's 
wound,  sent  several  of  his  chief  men  to  express  his 
regret  at  what  had  occurred,  and  to  call  God  to  witness 
that  he  had  no  knowledge  whatever  of  the  treachery. 
On  coming  into  Edward's  presence,  the  Sultan's  am- 
bassadors fell  on  their  faces.  "  What,"  exclaimed  the 
Prince  in  English,  "  is  the  use  of  paying  this  reverence 
to  me,  whom  of  all  men  you  most  bitterly  hate  ? 


:? 


*  "  The  vulgar  story,"  says  Tyrrell,  "  of  Eleanor  sucking 
the  venom  out  of  her  husband's  wound,  is  a  mere  romance; 
this  action  of  hers  not  being  mentioned  in  any  ancient  author 
of,  or  near,  the  time  :  the  first  in  which  I  can  find  it  being  Mr. 
Camden  in  his  '  Britannia,'  from  Avhom  it  is  also  transcribed 
by  Mr.  Speede  in  his  Chronicle ;  and  both  of  them  cite  Rodericus 
Toletanus,  or  Eoderick,  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  for  it.  But 
though  I  have  diligently  searched  that  author's  history  of  Spain, 
yet  I  cannot  find  it  there,  nor  I  believe  anybody  else;  for,  at  the 
end  of  his  work,  he  tells  the  reader  that  he  finished  it  a.d.  1243, 
which  was  ten  years  before  Prince  Edward  married  the  Princess 
of  Castille,  and  near  twenty  before  the  accident  of  the  assas- 
sin's wounding  that  prince."  — History  of  England. 


THE    PRINCE    AND    THE    ASSASSIN.  361 

It  appears  that  Edward  fully  acquitted  Bibars  Ben- 
docdar  ;  indeed,  his  suspicions  were  turned  in  a  differ- 
ent direction.  He  had  reason  to  fear  that  the  same 
influence  which  led  to  the  assassination  of  Henry  of 
Cornwall  in  the  church  of  St.  Lawrence,  was  exercised 
to  point  the  knife  of  Anazazim  at  his  own  heart.  But 
the  instigators  of  the  crime,  whoever  they  might  have 
been,  were  disappointed,  and,  within  fifteen  days  of 
the  operation,  the  English  surgeon  had  the  gratification 
of  seeing  the  Prince  mount  his  steed. 


31 


362  THE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


Edward's   return. 


Edward  was  recovering  from  his  wound,  and  the 
ambassadors  of  Bibars  Bendocdar  were  hastening  back 
to  their  master,  when  "  some  Preacher  and  Minorite 
brethren,"  reached  Acre,  and  made  their  way  to  the 
residence  of  Theobald,  Archdeacon  of  Liege.  The 
inteUigence  brought  by  these  holy  men  was  such  as 
to  secure  them  an  early  audience.  In  fact,  they  had 
come  from  Viterbo  with  news  that  the  cardinals  had 
elected  Theobald  to  the  papal  dignity.  All  Acre  was 
excited  by  this  event ;  aiid  the  Syrian  Christians  de- 
lighted their  minds  with  the  idea  that  the  elevation  of 
the  legate  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  would  lead  to  a 
mighty  effort  for  the  deliverance  of  Jerusalem  from 
the  Infidels. 

Theobald  was  hardly  less  sanguine  than  his  neigh- 
bors, and  with  high  resolutions,  prepared  to  sail  for 
Italy.  Before  embarking,  however,  he  assured  the 
Christians  of  Syria,  that  he  would  exert  all  his  in- 
fluence on  their  behalf;  and  in  a  discourse,  addressed 
to  a  large  assembly,  took  for  his  text  :  "  If  1  forget 
thee,  O  Jerusalem,  may  I  myself  be  forgotten  among 
men  !  "     Having  given  this  solemn  pledge,  Theobald 


Edward's  return.  363 

departed  to  ascend  the  papal  throne  with  the  title  of 
Gregory  the  Tenth. 

Meanwhile  Edward  began  to  think  seriously  of  Eng- 
land. He  could  now  entertain  little  hope  of  accom- 
plishing anything  of  consequence  in  the  East  ;  and  he 
had  received  from  his  aged  father  letT;ers  urging  his 
immediate  return.  After  doing  all  in  his  power  to 
strengthen  Acre,  the  Prince  became  anxious  to  see  a 
peace  negotiated,  and  the  King  of  Cyprus  and  Jeru- 
salem concluded  a  treaty  with  Bibars  Bendocdar.  By 
this  treaty  it  was  agreed  that  the  Christians  should 
peacefully  hold  Acre,  and  a  certain  extent  of  territory 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  city  ;  and  the  English  Prince, 
albeit  not  much  relishing  the  conditions,  was  fain  to 
consent.  Matters  having  thus  been  arranged,  Edward, 
with  the  Princess,  and  their  infant  daughter,  Joan  of 
Acre,  prepared  to  return  to  England,  for  which  his 
brother  Edmund,  and  several  of  his  companions,  had 
already  set  out.* 

After  sailing  from  Syria,  where  he  left  a  reputation 
inferior  to  no  man  who  had  ever  borne  the  cross, 
Edward,  on  the  15th  of  August,  1272,  landed  at  Tra- 
pani,  in  Sicily.  At  that  place,  he  received  a  pressing 
invitation  from  his  old  tutor  to  visit  Rome  ;  and  crossed 
the  Faro,  a  narrow  strait  that  separates  Sicily  from 
Calabria.  At  a  mountain  village  of  Calabria,  Edward, 
who  had  already  received  intelligence  of  the  death  of 
his  son,  Prince  John,  was  informed  that,  in  December, 

*  "This  year,  some  nobles  of  Ireland,  especially  one  great 
noble,  Thomas  de  Clare,  who  brought  with  him  four  Saracens 
prisoners,  returned  from  the  Holy  Land  to  England." — Matthew 
of  Westminster. 


364  THE    CRITSADES    AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

1271,  his  father,  King  Henry,  had  died  at  Westminster. 
On  hearing  this,  Edward  was  so  much  affected,  that 
Charles  of  Anjou,  who  knew  nothing  of  tenderness  but 
the  name,  expressed  his  extreme  surprise. 

"  Cousin,"  said  Charles  roughly,  "  I  cannot  but 
marvel,  that  you  grieve  so  much  more  for  your  aged 
father,  than  you  did  for  your  young  son." 

"  The  loss  of  a  son,"  said  Edward,  "  is  a  calamity 
which,  with  God's  blessing,  I  may  live  to  repair  ;  but 
the  loss  of  a  father  is  irreparable." 

Proceeding  on  his  way,  Edward,  in  the  month  of 
February,  1273,  reached  Rome,  and  remained  for 
several  days  in  "  the  Eternal  City."  Finding,  how- 
ever, that  the  Pope  was  absent  at  Civita  Vecchia,  about 
forty  miles  from  Rome,  he  turned  towards  that  town, 
and  was  there  received  by  Gregory  with  high  honors. 
After  being  treated  by  his  host  with  the  utmost  con- 
sideration, and  warned  to  beware  of  the  machinations 
of  his  foes,  Edward  left  Civita  Vecchia,  and  pursued 
his  journey  through  Italy. 

Never  had  the  presence  of  a  crusader  in  Europe 
excited  so  much  admiration  or  elicited  so  much  ap- 
plause. Edward's  fame  as  a  champion  of  the  cross 
had  preceded  him  ;  and,  in  every  city,  the  inhabitants 
came  forth  to  do  him  honor.  By  the  Milanese,  espe- 
cially, he  was  received  with  enthusiasm ;  and  they 
forced  on  his  acceptance  rich  presents  of  horses  and 
purple  mantles.  After  crossing  the  Alps,  he  met  a 
deputation  from  England,  who  formally  announced  his 
accession  ;  and  then  he  paid  a  visit  of  ceremony  to 
Philip  of  France, 

From  Paris  Edward  proceeded  to  Aquitaine  to  settle 


EDWAliD's    RETURN.  365 

the  afTairs  of  that  province,  and  knowing  that  all  was 
quiet  in  England,  remained  on  the  Continent,  hoping 
to  fathom  the  projects  of  the  French  King,  whom  he 
distrusted.  This  nearly  cost  him  dear,  and  proved  too 
plainly  that  the  Pope,  in  warning  Edward  to  beware 
of  his  foes,  was  animated  by  no  groundless  sus- 
picions. 

The  summer  of  1274  had  set  in,  and  Edward  was 
still  lingering  on  the  Continent,  when,  to  his  surprise, 
he  received  a  challenge  from  the  Count  of  Chalons. 
The  Count,  distinguished  as  a  warrior,  pretended  great 
eagerness  to  break  a  lance  with  a  champion  who  had 
filled  the  East  with  his  renown  ;  and  Edward,  with 
little  hesitation,  accepted  this  challenge  to  the  listed 
plain.  Each  was  to  be  accompanied  by  a  thousand 
men,  and  preparations  were  forthwith  made  for  the 
grand  encounter. 

At  the  time  and  place  appointed,  Edward,  with  a 
heart  as  fearless  as  the  lion  on  his  shield,  appeared  in 
the  lists,  attended  by  a  thousand  warriors  and  bestrid- 
ing one  of  those  war-steeds  celebrated  in  minstrels' 
song.  Soon  after  the  challenger  appeared,  but,  to 
Edward's  surprise,  with  double  the  followers  agreed 
on.  Suspicions  of  foul  play  immediately  pervaded  the 
English  ranks,  and  were  soon  confirmed  by  a  furious 
assault. 

A  fierce  conflict  now  took  place  ;  and  the  Count  of 
Chalons,  a  champion  of  great  physical  prowess,  threw 
his  brawny  arms  around  Edward's  neck  ;  and  made 
a  desperate  efibrt  to  drag  the  English  King  to  the 
ground.  But  the  Count  soon  found  that  he  had  mis- 
taken his  man.  Not  only  did  Edward  sit  firm  as  a 
31* 


366    THE  CRUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADERS. 

rock,  but,  giving  his  charger  the  spur,  he  hfted  the 
Count  from  his  saddle,  and  hurled  the  bulky  warrior 
headlong  to  the  ground.  The  Count's  knights  spurred 
in  to  the  rescue  ;  but  the  Count,  bruised  and  terrified, 
cried  for  quarter,  and  offered  to  surrender  his  sword. 
With  a  look  of  disdain,  Edward  turned  away,  aad  or- 
dered an  English  soldier  to  receive  the  weapon.  Mean- 
while, the  English  bowmen  had  driven  the  Count's 
infantry  from  the  field;  and  brought  the  struggle  to  a 
termination  little  anticipated  by  their  assailants. 

After  this  conflict,  which  was  long  remembered  as 
"  the  little  war  of  Chalons,"  Edward  turned  his  steps 
homeward  ;  and,  landing  at  Dover  on  the  2nd  of  Au- 
gust, he  prepared  to  enter  London.  Never  before  had 
the  English  capital  presented  an  aspect  so  gay.  Wine 
flowed  without  stint,  the  streets  were  hung  with  silken 
cloths,  arras,  and  tapestry,  and  the  municipal  func- 
tionaries manifested  their  enthusiasm  by  throwing 
handfuls  of  gold  and  silver  from  the  windows.  As 
Edward  and  his  fair  spouse  entered  the  city,  the  streets 
rang  with  cheers ;  and  not  until  they  had  disappeared 
within  the  Palace  of  Westminster  did  the  populace 
cease  from  displaying  their  enthusiasm.  Nor  was  this 
popularity  evanescent.  Ere  long  Simon  de  Montfort 
was  quite  forgotten  by  his  former  idolaters ;  and  all 
caps  were  in  the  air  for  "  the  good  King  Edward." 
After  a  reign  of  thirty-five  years,  Edward  was  still  the 
hero  of  Englishmen  ;  and  when  he  expired  at  Burgh- 
on-the-Sands,  his  death  was  bewailed  by  the  whole 
nation. 


MAMELUKE    SULTANS.  367 


CHAPTER   XII. 


MAMELUKE    SULTANS. 


The  English  chivalry  having  disappeared  from  Syria, 
and  the  last  of  the  great  crusaders  having  had  the 
Confessor's  crown  placed  on  his  brow  in  the  abbey  of 
Westminster,  Bibars  Bendocdar  resumed  his  career  of 
conquest  in  the  East. 

The  Sultan  was  no  longer  restrained  by  fear  of 
arrivals  from  Europe.  After  Edward's  crusade,  every 
attempt  to  rouse  the  old  spirit  proved  abortive  ;  and 
the  condition  of  the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem  was  by  no 
means  enviable.  Acre,  indeed,  was  comparatively 
secure :  for,  even  in  the  event  of  the  Sultan  disre- 
garding the  treaty  of  1272,  the  walls  had  been  fortified 
by  Edward  with  such  care,  that  the  city  was  in  a  con- 
dition to  stand  a  siege.  Other  places,  however,  were 
less  fortunate ;  and  when  Bibars  resumed  operations, 
the  Christians  were  much  inclined  to  cry,  as  they  had 
done  before  Edward's  arrival  —  "  O  Mussulmans, 
spare  us  !  spare  us  !  "  ^** 

All  this  time  the  Christians  in  the   East  conducted 

*  "  Iq  a  word,"  says  Fuller,  "his  (Edward's)  coming  to 
Ptolemais  and  assisting  them  there,  was  like  a  cordial  given  to  a 
dying  man,  which  doth  piece  out  his  life  (or  death  rather)  a  few 
groans  and  as  many  gasps  the  longer." 


368  IHE    CKUSADES    AND    THE    CHUSADEHS. 

themselves  in  such  a  way  as  could  hardly  fail  ulti- 
mately to  render  the  remnant  of  their  kingdom  an  easy 
conquest.  Even  the  succession  to  the  sovereignty  of 
Jerusalem  Avas  a  matter  of  dispute.  The  King  of 
Cyprus  and  the  King  of  Sicily  were  both  pretenders 
to  the  crown  ;  and  the  adherents  of  each  were  foolish 
enough  to  fight  about  the  claim  to  a  kingdom  that 
could  no  longer  be  said  to  exist. 

It  happened,  however,  that  while  the  Syrian  Chris- 
tians were  by  their  discord  playing  the  Sultan's  game, 
their  formidable  foe  did  not  sit  easily  on  his  throne  or 
in  his  saddle.  In  fact,  Bibars  Bendocdar  having  sacri- 
ficed two  sultans  to  his  ambitious  projects,  had  ever 
been  in  dread  of  some  Mameluke  chief  proving  as  un- 
scrupulous as  himself,  and  following  the  course  which 
had  conducted  him  to  power.  His  temper,  naturally 
jealous,  became  with  years  so  much  so,  that  the  sim- 
plest circumstance  was  sufHcient  to  excite  his  suspi- 
cions, and  the  most  trifling  communication  between 
neighbors  was  concluded  to  be  a  conspiracy. 

At  length,  wiiile  engaged  in  w^ar  with  Albaga,  King 
of  the  Tartars,  Bibars  ordered  enormous  imposts  to  be 
levied.  Deep  discontent  was  the  consequence ;  the 
death  of  the  Sultan  was  earnestly  prayed  for,  as  the 
most  desirable  of  events  ;  and  hardly  had  the  levy  of 
the  tribute  commenced,  when  Bibars  Bendocdar,  after 
reigning  seventeen  years,  was  numbered  with  the  dead. 
The  cause  of  the  great  Sultan's  death  has  been 
variously  stated.  One  says  that  he  expired  from  the 
effects  of  a  wound  received  in  Armenia  ;  another,  that 
he  died  of  cold  caught  while  swimming  the  Euphrates  ; 
and  a  third,  that  he  was  poisoned.     But,  however  that 


MAMELUKE    SULTANS.  369 

might  have  been,  his  name  inspired  awe  and  dread 
even  after  Ufa  had  departed  ;  and  men  trembled  around 
the  litter  that  bore  his  corpse  from  Damascus  to  Cairo. 
His  fame  was  of  high  account  in  the  East ,  and  he 
could  boast  that,  except  showing  the  white  feather  in 
presence  of  "  our  Edward,"  he  never  retreated  before 
the  face  of  an  enemy,  nor  sought  to  divest  himself  of 
the  odium  of  a  crime. 

When  Bibars  was  carried  off  by  death,  his  son  was 
placed  on  the  throne  of  Cairo.  But  a  revolution,  ex- 
cited by  the  Mamelukes,  soon  after  occurred  ;  and 
Kelaoun,  the  bravest  of  the  emirs,  was  invested  with 
sovereign  authority. 

The  new  Sultan  vowed  to  complete  the  work  which 
his  predecessor  had  begun  ;  and  the  Christian  states 
were  threatened  with  speedy  ruin.  At  feud  with  each 
other,  and  indifferent  as  to  the  fate  of  their  neighbors, 
the  Christians  formed  no  plan  of  defence.  Castle 
after  castle,  and  fortress  after  fortress,  fell  into  the 
Sultan's  hands  ;  and  Tripoli  having,  after  a  siege  of 
more  than  a  month,  surrendered,  w^as  consigned  to  the 
flames. 

Acre,  after  the  fall  of  Tripoli,  stood  almost  alone  to 
bear  the  brunt  of  the  battle  ;  and  the  Sultan  not  only 
occupied  himself  with  schemes  for  its  destruction,  but 
appeared  in  a  menacing  attitude  at  the  gates.  But, 
brave  as  he  was,  and  flushed  with  victory,  Kelaoun 
hesitated  to  push  matters  to  a  crisis,  and  entertained 
so  serious  a  dread  of  the  warriors  of  the  West,  that  he 
consented  to  a  truce  for  two  years. 

Scai?cely  had  Kelaoun  led  his  turbaned  warriors 
from  the  walls  of  Acre,  when  the  vicious  propensities 


370  THE    CRUSADES    AND    THE    CEUSADEKS. 

of  the  wife  of  a  rich  citizen  led  to  outrages  that  gave 
the  Sultan  a  pretext  for  renewing  the  war.  It  appears 
that  this  lady  had  so  far  forgotten  herself,  as  to  be- 
come enamoured  of  a  young  Saracen  ;  and,  in  defiance 
of  prudence  and  propriety,  indulged  him  with  meet- 
ings in  one  of  the  gardens  surrounding  the  city.  The 
husband,  however,  became  aware  of  what  was  taking 
place,  and,  in  his  anger,  swore  to  be  avenged.  Sum- 
moning a  few  of  his  friends,  therefore,  he  walked  out 
of  the  gates,  entered  the  gardens,  surprised  the  amor- 
ous pair,  and  sacrificed  both  to  his  outraged  honor. 
The  shrieks  of  the  lady  attracted  to  the  spot  some 
Saracens,  who  endeavored  to  avenge  their  country- 
man. Swords  were  drawn,  a  scuffle  ensued,  and  the 
Christians  being  superior  in  number,  soon  laid  every 
Moslem  dead  on  the  ground. 

News  of  this  bloodshed  was  carried  to  Cairo.  The 
Sultan  was  not  of  course  the  man  to  tolerate  such 
proceedings,  and  he  instantly  demanded  full  satisfac- 
tion. The  Christians  of  Acre  divided  in  opinion,  and 
reluctant  to  gratify  the  Sultan,  despatched  ambassa- 
dors to  Cairo  to  ofier,  not  satisfaction,  but  excuses  and 
presents,  Kelaoun,  after  listening  to  the  excuses  and 
rejecting  the  presents  with  contempt,  sent  back  the 
ambassadors  to  Acre  with  a  threat  that  the  Christians 
should  feel  the  full  weight  of  his  anger. 

The  ambassadors  returned  to  Acre  to  render  an 
account  of  their  mission  :  and  Kelaoun  prepared  to 
execute  his  threats.  At  his  word,  the  signal  for  war 
went  through  all  his  provinces  ;  and  from  the  Nile  to 
the  Euphrates,  the  Moslems  were  soon  in  motion. 

But  even  Sultans  are  mortal,  and   Kelaoun  was  not 


MAMELUKE    SULTAXS.  371 

destined  to  live  to  anniiiilate  the  Christian  state.  When 
about  to  set  forth  on  his  enterprise,  he  was  attacked  by 
sickness,  and  soon  became  aware  that  his  end  was 
approaching.  ]\Iore  fortunate  in  his  offspring  than 
Noureddin,  or  Saladin,  or  Bibars  Bendocdar,  Kelaoun 
had  a  son,  Chalil,  who  was  quite  capable  of  grasping 
the  sceptre.  Ere  closing  his  eyes,  Kelaoun  summoned 
his  son,  and  conjured  him,  in  presence  of  the  emirs, 
to  pursue,  without  intermission,  the  war  against  the 
Christians. 


372    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CRUSADEKS. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


THE    CITY    OF    REFUGE. 


While  Kelaoun  was  yielding  up  bis  breath  at  Cairo, 
and  ChaUl  was^promising  to  execute  bis  father's  dying 
command,  and  imans  were  imprecating  the  curses  of 
Mahomet  on  the  Christians  of  the  East,  Acre  warned 
of  the  impending  peril,  was  astir  and  preparing. 

The  inhabitants  of  Acre  were  not  without  encour- 
agement, so  far  as  the  sovereigns  of  Christendom  were 
concerned,  to  present  a  brave  front  to  the  gathering 
foe.  Henry  de  Lusignan,  King  of  Cyprus,  landed 
with  hundreds  of  warriors  to  fight  for  the  remnants 
of  that  kingdom  which  he  claimed  ;  John  de  Gresli 
came  from  France  to  represent  Philip  the  Fair;  and 
from  England,  Otho  de  Grandison,  who  had  accom- 
panied the  great  Edward  in  the  last  crusade,  arrived 
to  intimate  that,  whenever  the  Conqueror  of  Evesham 
could  be  spared  from  Europe,  he  would  come  to  de- 
fend the  city  which  he  had  formerly  saved. 

On  hearing  of  Kelaoun^s  death,  the  Christians  in- 
dulged in  vague  hopes  of  the  danger  passing  over.  But, 
about  the  beginning  of  April,  1291,  their  delusions  on 
this  point  were  dispelled  by  the  appearance  of  Chalil 
on  that  plain  which  a  century  earlier,  had  been  occupied 
by  Saladin.     The  army  of  the  young  Sultan  presented 


THE    CITY    OF    KEFUGE.  373 

a  most  formidable  aspect.  Two  hundred  thousand  men, 
sixty  thousand  of  whom  were  mounted,  ranged  them- 
selves around  the  Sultan's  banner ;  and,  covering 
several  leagues  of  ground,  extended  from  Mount 
Carmel  to  the  sea.  With  them  came  three  hundred 
machines  of  war,  one  of  which  was  so  large  that  a 
hundred  chariots  were  scarcely  sufficient  for  its  trans- 
portation. 

After  the  Grand  Master  of  the  Temple  had  made 
an  ineffectual  attempt  to  negotiate,  and  been  accused 
of  "  treachery  "  for  so  doing,  the  Sultan  roused  the 
ardor  of  his  soldiers ;  and,  despatching  his  emirs  to 
possess  themselves  of  Tyre,  Sidon,  and  the  other 
Christian  cities,  he  prepared  to  commence  the  siege 
of  Acre.  The  inhabitants  at  first,  exhibited  high 
courage,  and  arranged  themselves  in  four  divisions. 
One  of  these  was  commanded  by  the  Grand  Master  of 
the  Templars  ;  another  by  the  Grand  Master  of  the 
Hospital ;  a  third,  consisting  of  Englishmen  and 
Frenchmen,  was  commanded  by  Otho  de  Grandison 
and  John  de  Gresli ;  and  a  fourth,  composed  of  the 
fighting  men  of  Syria  and  the  warriors  from  the  isles 
of  the  Mediterranean,  by  the  King  of  Cyprus.  Each 
of  these  divisions  was  charged  with  the  defence  of 
certain  towers  and  ramparts ;  the  King  of  Cyprus 
taking  his  post  at  the  tower  and  gate  of  St.  Anthony, 
on  the  east  of  the  city. 

The  siege  at  length  commenced  ;  and  the  Moslem 
warriors,  fighting  under  the  Sultan's  eye,  pursued  the 
operations  with  incredible  vigor,  while  the  Christians 
conducted  the  defence  in  such  a  way  as  to  inflict  much 
loss  on  their  assailants.    The  machmes  of  the  besiegers 

32 


374    THE  CKUSADES  AND  THE  CBUSADEES. 

not  only  hurled  fire-pots  and  leaden  balls,  but  huge 
stones,  which,  when  they^fell,  shook  palaces  and 
houses  to  their  foundations ;  but  the  Christians  re- 
taliated with  a  vigor  which  cost  many  thousands  of 
the  besiegers  their  lives,  and  caused  the  Sultan  grave 
doubts  as  to  the  issue  of  the  conflict.  United  by  a 
feeling  of  common  danger,  and  not  without  hope  of 
aid  from  Europe,  the  besieged  hurled  arrows,  darts, 
and  stones  with  destructive  effect  from  the  walls ; 
and,  ever  and  anon,  made  sorties  with  such  skill  and 
courage,  as  to  carry  carnage  and  confusion  into  the 
ranks  of  their  adversaries. 

The  success  of  these  adventurous  sallies  inspired 
the  crusaders  with  a  dangerous  degree  of  temerity  ; 
and,  on  one  occasion,  carried  away  by  enthusiasm, 
they  penetrated  into  the  Saracen  camp.  The  exploit 
was  fatal  in  its  results.  While  some  were  repulsed 
with  slaughter,  others,  encompassed  by  countless  foes, 
were  cut  down  ;  and  the  Moslem  cavalry,  fastening 
the  heads  of  the  slain  round  the  necks  of  their  horses, 
went  to  exhibit  them  to  the  Sultan  as  trophies  of 
victory. 

But  though  at  first,  the  crusaders  fought  with  the 
utmost  ardor,  their  zeal,  as  weeks  passed,  began  to 
cool.  Their  courage  was  exhausted  by  fatigue  ;  their 
numbers  rapidly  diminished  ;  the  struggle  gradually 
became  more  hopeless  ;  and  the  attacks  of  the  be- 
siegers grew  more  frequent.  Many,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, began  to  despair  ;  and,  discouraging  each 
other  by  sinister  predictions,  exhibited  anxiety  to  leave 
a  city  which  they  could  not  defend.  The  quay  was 
daily  crowded  with  numbers  eager   to  depart ;  and,  to 


THE    CITY    OF    EEFUGE.  375 

the  evil  of  desertion,  was  added  dissention  among 
those  in  authority.  There  was  no  leader  sufficiently- 
elevated  by  genius  and  renown  above  the  others  to 
command  general  obedience,  and  there  was  only  one 
man  in  Europe  whose  presence  could  have  changed 
the  fate  of  the  East.  At  that  time  the  King  of  Eng- 
land was  too  busily  occupied  with  the  consolidation  of 
the  empire  of  the  Bretwaldas  to  reconquer  the  king- 
dom of  the  Baldwins  ;  and  every  day  brought  the  last 
refuge  of  the  Christians  of  the  East  nearer  its  catas- 
trophe. 

The  Sultan,  having  been  a  month  before  Acre, 
became  impatient  of  further  delay.  He  therefore 
announced  his  will  that  the  city  should  be  taken  by 
storm;  and,  on  the  1st  of  May,  the  signal  was  given 
for  an  assault.  At  daybreak  the  drums  of  the  Sara- 
cens, placed  on  three  hundred  camels,  sent  forth  a 
deafening  sound  ;  the  most  formidable  of  those  ma- 
chines of  war  which  had  been  brought  from  Cairo, 
moved  forward  to  batter  the  ramparts  of  St.  Anthony, 
and  the  Moslem  soldiers,  planting  ladders  at  the  base 
of  the  walls,  commenced  the  attack  with  the  spirit  of 
men  resolute  to  conquer  or  die. 

At  this  point  the  King  of  Cyprus  commanded,  and 
had  the  advantage  of  headino;  soldiers  who  recognized 
his  authority.  For  the  whole  of  that  day  he  con- 
ducted the  defence  so  gallantly,  that  the  Saracens 
were  kept  at  bay  ;  and  when  night  suspended  opera- 
tions, they  retreated  without  having  gained  any  advan- 
tage. Nevertheless,  the  King  began  to  think  more  of 
saving  himself  and  his  army  than  the  city,  and  re- 
solved  on    getting   away.      Eetiring  in   the   evening, 


37G  THE    CEUSADES    AND    THE    CETJSADEKS. 

under  pretext  of  taking  repose,  he  promised  to  re- 
sume his  post  at  daybreak ;  but,  meanwhile,  he  em- 
barked with  all  his  soldiers,  ordered  his  sails  to  be 
hoisted,  and  steered  towards  his  insular  dominion. 

When  morning  dawned,  and  the  desertion  of  the 
King  of  Cyprus  became  known,  the  crusaders  loudly 
expressed  their  indignation.  The  Saracens,  becoming 
aware  of  the  circumstance,  redoubled  their  exertions, 
and  battered  the  walls  with  rams  till  a  breach  was 
made.  A  fearful  conflict  now  took  place  ;  Christian 
and  Saracen  fighting  hand  to  hand,  and  steel  to  steel. 
No  quarter  was  asked  or  given  ;  on  all  sides  scenes  of 
valor  and  despair  were  enacted ;  and  when  night 
closed  over  the  city,  two  thousand  crusaders  had 
been  added  to  the  previous  carnage. 

Nevertheless,  the  Sultan  felt  as  if  the  prize  were 
about  to  elude  his  grasp.  Acre  appeared  not  one  city, 
but  a  number  of  cities  within  one  wall,  all  of  which 
were  defended  by  their  inhabitants  ;  and  these,  having 
been  once  more  addressed  by  the  Patriarch,  were 
girding  themselves  up  for  a  desperate  effort.  More- 
over, the  Templars  and  Knights  of  St.  John  were 
determined  to  struggle  to  the  last,  and  were  hourly 
performing  prodigies  of  valor.  William  de  Clermont, 
marshal  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  won  particular 
distinction,  presenting  himself  wherever  the  danger 
was  greatest,  and  leading  on  the  Christians  to  the  de- 
struction of  their  foes.  The  Sultan,  astonished  at  the 
obstinacy  of  the  defence,  began  to  lose  hope ;  but, 
influenced  by  imans  and  renegades,  he  held  to  his 
purpose  ;  and,  while  threatening  with  the  severest 
punishment  all  who   should   fly  from   the  face  of  a 


THE    CITY    OF    EEEUGE.  877 

Christian,  promised  high  rewards  to  any  one  who 
should  plant  the  standard  of  the  Prophet,  not  on  the 
walls,  but  in  the  heart  of  the  Christian  city. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  profit  at  once  by  the 
hopes  and  fears  of  his  soldiers,  Chalil,  on  the  morning 
of  the  4th  of  May,  gave  the  signal  for  a  decisive 
attack.  Led  by  the  Sultan,  and  animated  by  his 
presence,  the  Saracens  stormed  the  gate  of  St. 
Anthony,  now  defended  by  the  Templars,  and,  with- 
out regard  to  the  loss  they  sustained,  pushed  on  the 
attack  with  frenzied  courage.  The  crusaders  fought 
more  fiercely  than  ever  ;  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  The 
Saracens  pursued  the  attack  with  an  impetuosity  that 
defied  resistance,  beat  down  the  ramparts  and  rushed 
into  the  breach. 

The  Knights  of  the  Temple  were  now  in  despair. 
Their  valor,  however,  was  proof  against  the  peril  they 
had  to  front.  Resolving  to  attack  the  enemy's  camp, 
they  formed  in  order,  and  sallied  furiously  out  with 
lances  in  rest.  But  it  was  rashly  done.  Encountered 
by  superior  numbers,  they  were  driven  back  after  a 
sanguinary  conflict ;  and  had  scarcely  reached  the 
ramparts,  when  the  Grand  Master,  struck  with  an 
arrow,  fell  mortally  wounded  in  the  midst  of  his 
knights.  A  few  hundreds  of  warriors  now  remained 
to  guard  the  gate ;  and  these  fell  back  before  the 
press  of  a  multitude  of  foes,  fiery  with  fanaticism  and 
lavish  of  blood. 

The  elements  seemed  to  conspire  with  the  Sultan  to 
strike  dismay  and  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  Chris- 
tians. As  the  day  advanced,  gloom  spread  over  the 
sky,  and  gradually  deepened  mto  such  darkness  that 

32* 


378         THE    CHUSADES   AND    THE    CRUSADERS. 

men  could  hardly  distinguish  friends  from  foes.  At  the 
same  time,  a  tempest  burst  with  fearful  violence  on  the 
city,  adding  to  the  consternation  and  confusion. 

At  this  stage,  when  despair  was  in  every  heart,  and 
when  the  destruction  of  Acre  was  inevitable,  one  man 
appeared  to  cherish  hope.  Rallying  some  fugitives, 
and  shouting  his  battle-cry,  William  de  Clermont, 
marshal  of  St.  John,  spurred  towards  the  gate  of 
St.  Anthony,  which  had  just  been  abandoned.  With 
shouts  of  defiance,  and  almost  alone,  he  couched  his 
spear  and  penetrated  several  times  into  the  ranks  of 
the  Saracens.  Returning  alive,  he  rode  to  the  market- 
place, and  seemed  bent  on  new  adventures.  But  his 
steed,  jaded  and  fatigued,  stood  still,  unable  to  move  ; 
and  the  gallant  Marshal,  pierced  with  an  arrow,  sunk 
in  the  heart  of  the  city  of  which  he  had  been  the 
bravest  defender. 

The  Christians  now  perceived  that  the  struggle  was 
over  ;  and,  animated  by  the  instinct  of  self-preserva- 
tion, they  crowded  to  the  quay  in  the  hope  of  escaping. 
But  this  was  no  easy  matter.  The  ships  in  the  port 
were  too  few  to  convey  the  multitude  who  rushed  to 
embark  ;  and  the  sea  was  so  agitated  by  the  storm, 
that  the  ships  could  not  approach  the  shore.  The 
consequence  w^as  a  scene  of  unspeakable  horrors. 
Everybody  was  imploring  the  aid,  which  few  were 
in  a  position  to  render.  Wives  were  calling  on  their 
husbands  ;  mothers  on  their  sons  ;  children  on  their 
parents.  Many,  becoming  desperate,  threw  themselves 
into  the  bay,  and  sunk  in  attempting  to  swim  to  the 
ships,  or  yielded  to  their  fate,  when  beaten  off  from 
the  sides.     Noble  ladies,  whose  brothers  and  sires  had 


THE    CITY    OF    EEFUGE.  379 

fallen  during  the  siege,  appeared  on  tlie  quay,  ofTcring 
their  diamonds  and  jewels  to  be  saved,  and  even  se- 
curing a  passage  from  the  sacked  city  by  promising  the 
mariners  to  become  their  wives,  if  carried  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  infidels>- 

The  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem  had  nobly  done  his 
duty  during  the  siege,  and  appeared  to  regard  calmly 
the  prospect  of  dying  amid  the  ruins  of  the  city. 
The  friends  of  the  venerable  man,  however,  carried 
him  to  the  quay  and  placed  him  securely  in  his  vessel. 
Unfortunately,  the  charity  of  the  Patriarch  moved  him 
to  receive  on  board  all  who  implored  his  protection ; 
and,  the  vessel  sinking  under  its  load,  all  on  board 
found  a  watery  grave.  While  this  was  occurring, 
the  Sultan's  cavalry,  galloping  down  to  the  harbor, 
chased  the  multitude  into  the  water  ;  and  the  weapons 
of  the  Saracens  speedily  despatched  such  of  the  Chris- 
tians as  hesitated  to  trust  themselves  to  the  waves  of 
the  sea. 

By  this  time  the  conflict  was  deluging  every  street 
with  blood.  The  Christian  warriors  disputed  the 
ground  foot    by   foot ;   and,  on   all   sides,  corpses  lay 


♦  "  It  is  strange  -what  is  reported,"  says  Fuller,  "  that  about 
five  hundred  matrons  and  virgins  of  noble  blood,  standing  on 
the  shore,  and  having  all  their  richest  jewels  with  them,  cried 
out  with  lamentable  voice,  and  proffered  to  any  mariner  that 
would  undertake  safely  to  land  them  anjnvhere,  all  their  wealth 
for  his  hire,  and  also  that  he  should  choose  any  one  of  them  for 
his  wife.  Then  a  certain  mariner  came,  and  transporting  them 
all  freely,  safely  landed  them  in  Cyprus;  nor  by  any  inquiry 
could  it  be  known,  when  he  was  sought  for  to  receive  his  hii"e, 
who  this  mariner  was,  nor  whither  he  went." 


380         THE    CEUSA.DES    AND    THE    CKIJSADERS. 

in  heaps.  At  every  church,  palace,  and  public  edifice, 
the  crusaders  made  a  stand  ;  and  when  they  saw 
these  places  taken,  one  after  another,  by  the  Saracens 
and  given  to  the  flames,  they  threw  themselves,  with 
desperate  intent,  into  the  castle  of  the  Templars. 

On  learning  the  situation  of  the  warriors  who  had 
escaped  the  swords  of  his  soldiers,  the  Sultan  caused 
the  castle  of  the  Templars  to  be  besieged  5  and  sol- 
diers, instructed  to  put  all  within  to  the  sword,  sur- 
rounded the  stronghold.  For  several  days,  the  knights 
maintained  themselves  with  desperate  valor ;  and, 
driven  to  the  tower  of  the  Grand  Master,  attempted  to 
resist  their  fate.  But,  the  tower,  having  been  under- 
rained,  was  utterly  insecure,  and,  while  the  Sara- 
cens were  mounting  to  an  assault,  the  structure  gave 
way  with  a  fearful  crash.  The  Christian  knights, 
their  Moslem  assailants,  and  many  women  and  children, 
who  had  there  sought  an  asylum,  all  perished  beneath 
the  ruins. 

The  long  struggle  was  now  at  an  end  ;  and  Acre  in 
the  hands  of  the  Sultan.  Destruction,  however,  was 
the  policy  of  the  Saracens  in  regard  to  all  that  the 
Christians  had  reared.  Churches,  towers,  and  ram- 
parts, were  demolished ;  palaces  and  public  edifices 
were  given  to  the  flames  ;  and  everything  was  de- 
stroyed, likely  to  again  attract  the  warriors  of  the 
West  to  the  coast  of  Syria. 


D^  Any  Books  in  this  list  will  be  sent  free  of  postage,  on  receipt 
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Boston,  135  TTashcs-gton  Stbebt, 
November,  1859. 

A   LIST    OF   BOOKS 


PUBLISHED    BY 


TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS 


Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Illustrated   Household   Edition   of   the  Waver- 

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Index;  and  some  curious  additions,  especially  in  "  Guy  Man- 
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it 


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